


where we stand

by mouthbites



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Slow Burn, Summer, feat. hyungline, semi college au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthbites/pseuds/mouthbites
Summary: sicheng and jaehyun have something that works. there's no reason to fuck that up.





	1. Chapter 1

_july_

 

the warm, humid city air greets sicheng when he comes out of the busy, air-conditioned station entrance, applying itself like a layer on his skin. it smells of car fumes, cigarette smoke and wet tarmac - no trace of the salty, fresh sea wind that was surprisingly easy to get used to. he slowly follows the flow of people down the wide stone stairs and squints up towards the heavy sky. large, dark grey clouds hang low over the city, bearing the constant threat of rain.

sicheng pulls out the handle of his suitcase and heads left along the building, past the bus stops and taxi zones. his legs are stiff after the hour on the train, his whole body simultaneously tired and restless the way it gets after a long journey. maybe he should go for a run when he gets home. his head feels thick and slow, the drone of cars and chatter of voices blending together in his ears, cut through only by the occasional shout or angry honk of a horn.

soon enough he reaches the short time parking lot and scans over the cars, keeping on walking until he spots a familiar head sticking up over the glossy roofs; pale, bleached blonde hair with a thick strip of black roots down the middle.

sicheng feels the small smile that automatically sets itself over his mouth. he lets it be there. he waits for a car to pass and then crosses the lane, the wheels of his trunk rolling off the edge of the sidewalk and hitting the tarmac with a thud. the sound makes jaehyun look up and spot him, and sicheng sees a similar smile spread on jaehyun’s face. he’s standing leaned against the front door of his dad’s old car, in faded jeans shorts and a loose t-shirt, hanging off his shoulders

“hey,” jaehyun says, coming to the back of the car to meet him. “good timing.”

“did you wait long?”

jaehyun shakes his head, opening the rear door. “just a couple of minutes.”

sicheng heaves his suitcase into the trunk and drops his backpack by the side, then slips into the passenger seat. jaehyun starts the engine and puts a hand on sicheng’s backrest, twisting around to look back through the rear window while he slowly eases them out of the slot with his left hand on the wheel. 

“thanks for picking me up.” 

jaehyun had offered to do it, even though sicheng had said it wasn’t necessary. but jaehyun had told him he didn’t mind.

“no problem.” jaehyun leans forward, checking left and right before rolling out of the parking lot. “it’s a pain in the ass to lug that bag all the way through the city.”

sicheng makes a vague hum. he sinks into the seat, letting his head tip back against the headrest. he quietly sucks in the familiar car smell through his nose; a bit of oil, textiles, and that something that smells almost exactly like jaehyun’s house. the smooth movements of the vehicle lulls him, makes his shoulders drop and muscles loosen. maybe he won’t run, maybe he’ll take a nap instead.

jaehyun glances at him when they’re out on the road. “was the flight okay?”

sicheng makes a little grimace. “i lived. stuck three hours in shanghai, but no delays or anything.”

“did your mom drive you to the airport?”

“yeah. dad had to leave early for work.”

jaehyun hums. “was she sad when you left?”

sicheng laughs shortly. more times than should be asked of an awkward teenager has he had to stand in a crowded airport with his mother crying and showering him with kisses. “she’s got better at holding it together.”

jaehyun chuckles. he looks at sicheng from the corner of his eye. “were you sad?”

sicheng watches a car passing them on the outside. he runs his thumb over the nail of his middle finger. “just a little.”

jaehyun tips his head in a small nod and is quiet. his hands are steady on the wheel, the imitation leather making a smooth sliding sound against the skin of his palms when he loosens his grip to let the wheels straighten, then his fingers tighten again. he’s a neat 9-and-3-er, but when they slow to a stop at a red light he lets his hands drop to the bottom of the wheel.

“are you tired?” he asks, turning his head to look at sicheng.

“a bit,” sicheng says. “why?”

jaehyun shrugs, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “there are plans for a small get-together of sorts to be held tonight in celebration of your return.”

“a what?”

“a welcome-back party.”

sicheng frowns. “i was barely gone two weeks. why would i need a party?"

jaehyun shrugs again. he shifts gear and pushes them back into motion. “maybe we all just love you a lot,” he says, voice honey smooth and sweet. 

sicheng rolls his eyes. "whose idea was this? yuta-hyung’s? youngho-hyung’s?” 

jaehyun employs a diplomatic silence, but it’s telling enough.

sicheng snorts. “they just want an excuse to go out and drink."

jaehyun laughs. “it’s just dinner.” he speeds up, sliding them into the traffic of a larger street just as the first heavy drops hit the windshield. “come on, it’ll be fun. you’re anyway gonna eat, right?”

sicheng leans his head against the door window, grinning. “okay, i’ll go.” there’s a curtain of rain in the distance, blurring the high buildings. droplets have started crawling horizontally over the glass. “can i at least go home and take a shower first?”

 

 

jaehyun stops by the sidewalk outside the small chicken restaurant at the front of the building. he leaves the engine on, the windshield wipers working furiously against the stream.

“can you get your bags on your own?” he asks, blinking sweetly. 

“yes,” sicheng says flatly.

“i’ll pick you up in like an hour.”

“okay.” sicheng braces himself for a moment before opening the door. “thanks again.”

he hauls out his bags and pushes the hatch shut, not waiting to watch jaehyun drive off before crossing the sidewalk and hurrying into the alley between the buildings. he gets to the backyard and in through the gate without getting too soaked and walks the two flights of stairs to the top floor.

the place is like he left it, only a little staler. sicheng drops his keys on the countertop and his backpack on one of the two chairs. he looks into the fridge despite knowing fully well it’s empty since he hasn’t picked up any groceries yet, but finds a half-empty bottle of lemon soda water. he twists the cap (completely silent) and takes a sip, leaning back against the counter.

his apartment isn’t big. the hallway leads into one long room, with a small kitchen at one end and an alcove for the bed at the other, tucked in behind the bathroom and closet. but it's good enough for him. he doesn't need a lot.

it was jaehyun who helped him find it, during their first year of college. after already living in dorms for most of his high school time, sicheng wanted a place of his own.

“dad knows this guy who owns a couple of buildings in our neighborhood,” jaehyun had told him. “i can ask dad to check with him.”

it took a recommendation from jaehyun’s father to the landlord and some correspondence between jaehyun’s father and sicheng’s father for the latter to make sure the place was to a standard worthy of his investment, but then sicheng moved in, almost a year ago by now. it’s nothing like his parents’ flat in wenzhou, or the one they lived in in seoul, but it's close to campus and, coincidentally, just two blocks away from jaehyun’s house.

sicheng walks over to the window over his desk, poking at one of his handful of pitiful houseplants that jaehyun’s been checking on while he was gone. the soil is wet. he leans over and pushes the window open a crack. water drums against the window sill. fresh air starts seeping in, the smell full; soaked and sweet.

suddenly he remembers how sticky and gross he feels and makes for the bathroom, dropping his clothes on the way.

 

 

"oh yeah," kun says suddenly, putting some meat on the grill. "hansol-hyung had to work so he couldn't make it, but he says hi."

there is some general humming around the table. it’s their usual one, tucked in at the back in one of their go-to restaurants near campus.

"i've barely seen him since the semester ended," youngho says.

"it's an internship, right?" doyoung asks. "how's it going for him?"

"good, i guess," kun says. "it's good work experience so he's trying to put in a lot of hours."

"man." yuta sighs, leaning back in his chair. "you always think summers are gonna be so great, but everybody's working or they're away or they're taking summer classes and it's barely different from the semesters."

"some of us have to make some money, hyung," jaehyun says next to him.

yuta looks over at him, eyebrows raised. "not like you do."

"but maybe i want to." jaehyun lovingly fills a lettuce wrap with pork and chili paste. "for the sake of personal growth and some financial independence, and shit like that." he squeezes the package into his mouth, looking at yuta smugly, cheeks bulging. 

yuta snorts and pokes him with his elbow. “you talk, but your mommy still folds your laundry.”

sicheng grins to himself, blowing on a piece of hot meat pinched between his chopsticks.

doyoung, kun and youngho are hyungs from high school. youngho wasn’t in chinese class, of course, but him and ten took it as a third language. yuta and jaehyun (and hansol) came into the picture through the former three. circles melted together, the way they do, connections spreading, forming new constellations.

sicheng went to international school, because they, in his father’s words, weren’t “going to stay long”. they never were. sicheng spent his childhood flitting around to wherever his father’s business took them; wenzhou, new zealand, beijing, seoul, and then it was back to wenzhou again. sicheng was sixteen and put his foot down. they had spent three years in korea already, and those are formative ones. he wasn’t up for leaving his school, his friends, his dance group, to go back to a place that was supposed to feel like home but never had. it was partially just a silly teenage rebellion, but he was convincing enough about it that he managed to strike a deal with his parents, to let him stay and graduate, at least.

it ended up being a bit longer than that. maybe a lot longer.

"sicheng-ah," youngho says, looking up at him. "are you taking korean this summer too?"

sicheng nods. "i've already missed two weeks though." he puts another piece of meat in his mouth. "i should find some notes to borrow or something."

"i'll help you if you need it," jaehyun says, wiping the corners of his mouth.

"you don't take the class," sicheng deadpans. youngho snorts and starts laughing, almost choking on his food. yuta cackles, patting jaehyun's shoulder. doyoung grins next to sicheng. 

"i mean--"

"you're not even a foreigner," yuta adds.

"exactly. hence, i know korean."

"we all do," doyoung says.

jaehyun makes a face at him. "fine. don’t mind me just trying to be a good friend." 

doyoung starts telling anybody willing to listen about the extra courses he has taken on for the summer and the additional credits it will give him. yuta mumbles something that sounds a lot like "teacher's pet", and doyoung rolls his eyes and tells yuta that some people want to get somewhere, want to do something with their lives, and yuta tells doyoung that he sure wants to do something with his life, thank you very much, he just doesn't want hair loss and stomach ulcers at twenty-five. life is made for living, and he's going to have fun along the way.

sicheng tunes them out. he focuses on his food for a minute, realizing he has missed the korean flavors. when he looks up his eyes happen to meet jaehyun's across the table. jaehyun gives him a grin around his mouthful of food. sicheng cocks his brows at him. jaehyun wiggles his own back. sicheng snorts, earning a glance from yuta.

"i wanna go to the beach," kun says. "we could all go together some day."

jaehyun perks up. "yes! let's." he reaches over the table and makes kun fistbump him.

"mm," doyoung says. "we'll need two cars." he turns his head towards youngho in a very unsubtle way.

youngho shrugs. "give me gas money and food and i'll drive you wherever you want."

“ah, we should take a road trip.”

“that’d be cool.”

youngho coughs. “i mean, i have a job though. responsibilities.”

“we could go camping.”

doyoung scowls. “fuck, i hate camping.”

“nobody asked you to come.”

“you can’t make a decent road trip here, anyway,” jaehyun says. “pretty pointless when you can cross the country in a day.”

youngho nods. “if you’re gonna drive, you should be in the us.”

“so, we should go america?”

jaehyun chuckles. “this escalated quickly.”

yuta’s resting his chin in his hand, tracing the rim of his glass with the other. "i just wanna be out all night, drink some beer by the river, make out with someone in the grass," he says. "but you can't even do that in this weather."

“who are you gonna make out with?” youngho asks, brows raised.

yuta shrugs. “i’ll find someone.” he lifts the glass to his lips, looking at youngho with a slimy grin. “you interested?”

youngho snorts. “thanks, but no thanks.”

"the rainy season started early," doyoung says soberly. "it'll be over soon."

they hang around for a bit after everyone’s full, but then youngho leans forward and looks around the table.

"so," he says. "the night’s young. how about we move on, continue this elsewhere?"

yuta straightens, putting his hands on his thighs. "sounds about right."

kun shakes his head. "sorry, i have to get up early tomorrow."

sicheng glances at jaehyun quickly. jaehyun’s looking at him too, a small smile playing on his lips, but he holds it back.

"dyong?" yuta asks. 

doyoung shrugs. "yeah, i'm in."

yuta turns to jaehyun.

“i can’t drink anyway,” jaehyun says. “i drove here.”

yuta tsks, looking at him like at a misbehaving child. “then why did you do that?” 

“sicheng?” youngho asks, smiling at him. “you wanna go?”

sicheng clears his throat. “i’m pretty tired. i think i'll just head home and sleep.”

yuta pouts obnoxiously. "but we were gonna toast to your returning to the great republic of korea. we prepared a speech and everything."

"uh,” sicheng says. “you can toast all you want, hyung.”

“i wanna hear the speech,” kun says. “can’t you do it here?”

yuta angles his mouth. “it kinda needs its moment.”

“and you probably need to be a bit drunk to appreciate it,” youngho adds.

“we did write it while drunk, so yeah.”

jaehyun also clears this throat. “well, i’ll pass too. you can go with me if you want,” he says, nodding towards sicheng.

sicheng sees yuta rolling his eyes, but yuta doesn’t say anything.

they pay their bills and pile out on the street. the rain has let up, at least for a while.

“kun-ge, you need a ride?” jaehyun asks.

kun shakes his head. “the subway station is just around the corner.”

“last chance,” yuta says as they’re splitting up.

“bye, hyung.”

“fine. later, nerds.” 

they wave kun off, and then it’s just the two of them. they walk to the car in silence.

out on the road, jaehyun puts on the radio. some guy sings a ballad, and then comes a peppy girl group song. sicheng watches the passing buildings through the window, city lights in the night, painting glittering reflections over the still wet streets. now and again, jaehyun’s fingers tap softly on the wheel in time with the beat.

“so,” he says casually as they come into their neighborhood. “how tired are you?”

sicheng stifles a giggle, making it sound more like a snort. “not that tired.”

jaehyun grins and turns into a back street. he parks, locks up and then follows sicheng across the backyard, up the stairs. he waits, hands in his pockets, studying some piece of scribble on the wall, while sicheng digs for his keys and unlocks the door. 

they come into the hallway and kick off their shoes, then sicheng turns around and jaehyun catches him, grin wide, teeth glimmering grey in the dark, eyes pitch black, and sicheng doesn’t wait to kiss him.

nobody bothers turning on the lights. sicheng pulls at jaehyun’s elbows softly, taking a step back, and jaehyun follows him immediately, keeping their mouths close together. a hum, a breath, the slick sound of lips, smooth, fitting together easily. they stumble through the dark, lit only by the faint glow of the city through the windows, painting grey, skewed squares up the walls. jaehyun’s hands slip down from his waist, fingers coming up under the edge of his shirt, molding over his skin.

halfway through the room sicheng almost trips on the edge of the rug and has to grab onto jaehyun’s shoulders, and jaehyun hooks his arm around his waist to steady him. they stay like that for a moment, shaking against each other with giggles, then jaehyun’s nose brushes over his cheek and their lips seek and find each other again; light, restless kisses between grins. jaehyun curls his fingers in the fabric of sicheng’s shirt and slides it up, off him, sicheng lifting his arms, jaehyun’s hands back at his waist, leaning down to put his lips on his nape, his naked shoulder. presses close, stomach to stomach, the print of jaehyun’s shirt cold and plastic against sicheng’s skin. jaehyun nudges him backwards, making him move again, one step, two.

past the couch, sicheng reaches for jaehyun’s shirt too, starts pulling it off, but it gets stuck over his head and jaehyun flails around with his hands in the air for a second before getting a hold of the fabric. sicheng snorts and cracks up again, bubbling, silly giggles; jaehyun reappears a moment later, joining him. sicheng reaches out, without thinking, brushing his fingers over jaehyun’s stomach, still jerking with laughter, up, over his chest. melting together again, skin to skin, his hands on jaehyun’s neck, pulling him further, jaehyun’s damp breath on his lips.

now there is the bed, and sicheng sinks down on it, using his hands to scoot himself backwards, and jaehyun follows, knees on either side of his hips. he hovers above, grinning down at sicheng, face soft and dark in the shadows.

two weeks isn’t a lot. yet it burns inside sicheng, faster and stronger than usual. something pulls in his stomach, clenching, making it suck in. a coldness, a ripple of goosebumps down his arms. a layer of void all over his skin, needing to be filled.

 

 

afterwards, they stay in bed for a while, just talking. sicheng’s on his back, half leaned against his pillow propped up against the wall, jaehyun on his stomach next to him. his bangs are getting long, and sicheng resists the urge to reach over and brush them out of his eyes.

“what time is it?” jaehyun asks suddenly.

sicheng looks over to his bedside clock. “almost eleven.”

“ah, crap.” jaehyun pushes himself up and climbs over sicheng, making the sheet slip off them in the process. he stands up and looks around over the floor. “i should get home, i’ve got an early shift tomorrow.” he finds his underwear and pulls them on.

“okay,” sicheng says. he watches the lines of jaehyun’s arm and back when he bends over to pick up his jeans from below the foot of the bed, and then steps into them. his skin looks golden in the light from the corner lamp, the shadows dark and deep. 

“i’ve got choir practice tomorrow too,” he says in passing, turning towards sicheng again as he zips up his fly. “but i’ll be done around eight.” he sticks his hands in the pockets to adjust the fabric, finding his keys in the process, judging by the jingle of metal. his eyes fall on sicheng where he’s still stretched out with an arm under his head. jaehyun slowly takes out his hands and stills, eyes blatantly sliding up and down sicheng’s body, and a cheeky grin grows on his face. sicheng feels a sudden urge to cover himself. he tugs at a corner of the abandoned sheets, pulling some fabric back over his hips.

“it’s good to have you back,” jaehyun says suddenly.

sicheng looks up. a grin comes over him as well. “you missed me?”

jaehyun gives half a shrug, reaching for his phone on the dresser. “well. yeah.”

“not just my dick?”

jaehyun snorts. “yes.” he finds his shirt too and pulls it over his head. “i didn’t mean, like, just this.” his head comes out, hair mussed up, and one of his hands instinctively comes up to comb fingers through the bangs. then he looks at sicheng again and smiles, dimples and all. “more in general.”

something warm, something very familiar, seeps out into sicheng’s chest, settling into it’s spot right between his lungs. it’s small, but it presses a little on the space around it, enough for his chest to feel tight, his throat narrowed.

jaehyun spins around, eyes scanning over the floor. “have you seen my wallet?”

sicheng swallows. “i think you left it in the car.” 

“right,” jaehyun says, scratching the back of his head. “i’ll lock the door?” he asks, already halfway towards the couch.

“okay.”

jaehyun nods. gives him one last grin. “well, later.”

“yeah.”

sicheng stares into the ceiling, waiting for the sound of the front door falling shut. then he rolls over to his stomach, face-planting into the second pillow. which, for the record, smells like jaehyun. 

“fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

sicheng strikes the routine ending pose and holds it, counting five beats - fifteen pounds of his pulse in his ears. he keeps his eyes on the mirrored wall, adjusting the angles of his body a little to make sure he matches the others. as if by a signal they all relax, straightening up and dropping limbs and shoulders. the music starts up again, but eunki walks over to the player and shuts it off. 

“water break,” he calls, and neither sicheng nor zhengting object. it’s just the three of them today - ten is in thailand, cheng xiao’s got the flu and momo hasn’t showed up. 

sicheng walks over to the back wall, breathing through his open mouth, tongue dry and sticky. sweat runs in beads down his neck and back, gluing the fabric of his tank-top to his skin. the newer dance studios - with air conditioning - were all occupied, and the spinning fans barely manage to stir the thick air in the basement room. he sinks down next to where zhengting has sprawled out on the floor and pulls his water bottle from his backpack, downing big, greedy mouthfuls.

“five minutes?” eunki says, nodding towards sicheng and lightly kicking zhengting’s limp foot before moving back through the room. zhengting groans vaguely in response. 

sicheng wipes his hand on his shorts and digs his phone out of the front pocket of his bag, finding the signal lamp blinking blue. he swipes the screen with his thumb and deftly taps in the code. it’s a text from jaehyun, sent ten minutes ago.

_u want dinner? :^)_

sicheng screws the cap back onto his bottle and grins to himself. _ur cooking?_ he types back.

he pulls out his small towel and leans back against the wall, wiping his face and neck. barely a minute passes before his phone beeps.

_yep. any wishes?_

_meat,_ sicheng taps in.

_on my salary??_

sicheng snorts. _ill buy u next time_

suddenly he feels a looming presence by his shoulder and turns his head to find zhengting right next to him, leaned over in an unveiled attempt to sneak a peek. zhengting looks up and meets his eyes, grinning sheepishly, but doesn't look very apologetic.

"you're smiling," he says, like that excuses it. then he points down to sicheng's phone and asks; "jaehyun? is that jung jaehyun?"

"uh," sicheng says.

eunki, who is stretching in the middle of the room, immediately turns his head. “who’s jung jaehyun?”

"he's a media major, second year," zhengting informs him before sicheng can say anything. then he looks back at sicheng. "isn't he your boyfriend?"

" _oh._ " eunki steps closer, grinning. sicheng knows it's not malicious; they're all out to each other. zhengting has a boyfriend of his own, whom he’s not shy to talk about. still, a new wave of heat has washed over sicheng’s cooling skin.

“no,” he says.

“really? i always see you two together, like at lunch,” zhengting continues.

“i have lunch with lots of people,” sicheng protests.

“is he the one who has picked you up after practice a couple of times?” eunki cuts in.

“that’s just…” sicheng stutters. “just when he’s been staying late at campus. we live in the same area.”

zhengting hums. “so you hang out a lot?”

“well, yeah.”

“then you're close, right?” 

"we are, but…” sicheng starts, just as his phone beeps again.

_so can i let myself in? :)))_

sicheng looks down at the screen. "he's not my boyfriend."

zhengting peeks over his shoulder again. "even though he cooks dinner for you? at your place?"

eunki makes another, longer and more annoying, _ooooh_ -noise.

sicheng shoves at zhengting's arm, but he can't stop a giggle from coming out. "it's none of your business who cooks dinner for me."

zhengting laughs. “i’m just saying. sounds like a keeper,” he says in mandarin, then pushes himself up and walks over to join eunki. sicheng pulls his legs to his chest and quickly sends a _sure_ , then adds _i’ll be home around nine_ , cringing for a moment at the sound of it, then slips his phone back into his bag and hopes that's the end of it. but zhengting spends the next couple of minutes telling eunki how handsome jung jaehyun is and how cute he and sicheng look together.

 

 

ten past nine sicheng locks up his bike in the backyard and throws his backpack over one shoulder with a small sigh. his muscles feel loose and a bit sore, his feet a little heavy up the steps of the stairs, but his head is light and pleasantly empty, mind cleared the way that only a couple of hours of dancing can do. when he opens the door he’s met by the smell of frying onions and pork.

jaehyun’s head pops into the hallway. "hey," he says. "i just got started."

sicheng drops his bag on the floor and comes up to his side by the stove. "i should ask if you need help, but can i shower first?"

jaehyun grins, stirring sizzling strips of meat around the pan. “go ahead.” he looks up at sicheng and leans in a little. “damn, you stink.”

sicheng, already on his way and in the process of pulling off his damp tank, balls up the fabric and throws it at jaehyun. “i do not.”

jaehyun laughs, catches it with his left hand and tosses it back at him.

sicheng locks the bathroom door, strips off the rest of his clothes and drops them in the hamper. turning around in the small space, he comes face to face with the mirror over the sink. his sweaty hair has dried in stiff, messy strands over his face, and he tugs absently at them before sweeping his bangs back over his head with his hand.

it’s still early in the month but his face has already tanned, emphasizing the slight darkness of his upper lip. black eyes looks back at him, eyebrows hard against his paler forehead. mouth pursed; lips plump and a little chapped. he pokes at the beginnings of a pimple on his chin, scratches at some blackheads on his nose.

he runs the water lukewarm, startling at the contrast of it on his still-hot skin at first, but soon gets used to it. he closes his eyes and puts his face under the stream, breathing in through it with his mouth, feeling the sticky film of salt wash off his skin. then tips his head forward, shivering as the cool water runs through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

when he comes out again with a towel wrapped around his waist, jaehyun’s setting the small table.

"is your mom okay with you not being home for dinner?" sicheng asks.

jaehyun glances up at him, putting down two pairs of bowls. "what are you, my second mom?"

sicheng snorts, walking over to his closet. knowing jaehyun, he was already getting groceries when he texted. if sicheng had turned him down, jaehyun would have made dinner at home instead. truth to be told, jaehyun seems to spend more of his spare time at sicheng’s place than at home. sicheng doesn’t really understand why he doesn’t get a place of his own if he’s so eager to get out of the house. but as long as he cooks, sicheng can’t complain.

sicheng stands by the bed and quickly pulls on some underwear and a pair of shorts when jaehyun’s back is turned. he hangs his towel over the desk chair and then crosses back through the room, pulling a clean tank over his head.

"you should cook for your parents too, some time." he lifts the lid of a simmering pot, sniffing. a small cloud of spicy fog rises into his face. his stomach starts grumbling expectantly.

jaehyun’s washing some vegetables in the sink. “i do.” he wipes off his hands on his (sicheng’s) apron, then reaches around sicheng’s back and pats his arm to make them switch places. “slice those up.”

sicheng takes a knife out of the stand and inelegantly pushes it down through a carrot.

“besides, what would you do if i wasn’t here to make sure you don’t fall prey to malnutrition. cup noodles is not a proper meal, you know.”

“take-out is a thing, you know.”

they eat, and then sicheng washes the dishes while jaehyun sits on the countertop with a dish towel and dries the bowls and glasses sicheng hands him, and then they end up watching some late night movie (which sicheng gets too sleepy to pay attention to halfway through but he doesn’t say anything, just sinks down against jaehyun’s side and dozes off) until jaehyun goes home at two am. sicheng shuffles out into the hallway to exchange ' _night_ s and lock the door after him.

they don’t always fuck. a lot of the times it’s just this - hanging out, just like they used to before sex came into the picture. the sex is a pretty recent development - the product of a late night and a couple too many drinks at one of the clubs yuta and ten drag them to. sicheng remembers it was during winter break, half a year ago by now. that first time was just messy frenching against a wall, constantly being bumped into by passing or dancing people, drunken giggles, jaehyun’s soju breath and sweaty palms.

yuta and ten took great pleasure in teasing them about it for the next couple of days, telling youngho and doyoung at first opportunity, but doyoung only rolled his eyes at it all and youngho was surprisingly sympathetic. sicheng, though embarrassed at first, soon grew indifferent towards the topic and joined doyoung in ignoring them, but jaehyun seemed to take some kind of pride in the comments, grinning every time it was brought up.

the second time, a couple of weeks later, they were completely sober. half joking at first, one thing led to another, then there they were; jaehyun, red in the face, with his hand halfway down sicheng’s pants, asking if sicheng wanted to. sicheng swallowed and took a moment to try to figure out what he would have said if he hadn’t had a boner. but what did it matter? he wanted. no point in denying it.

 

 

the first time jaehyun called sicheng his best friend it came as a bit of a surprise. it was senior year, and they were still in different schools. if sicheng had had to choose which one of his friends he was closest with at that time, it would have been kun. and knowing that jaehyun had other friends he was close with, and following him on instagram and having seen the pictures he had taken with them tagged with # _bff_ and # _soulmate_ and the likes, sicheng didn't take it very seriously. 

they didn’t really get close during high school, because sicheng’s korean wasn’t very good. but jaehyun seemed to like the fact that they were the same age, and that he wasn't the lone youngest of their common circle anymore.

when sicheng, freshly seventeen and trying to keep his voice steady, very casually mentioned to ten that he likes boys, they spent a minute or two working things out, and then ten said; “well, so you’re bi? cool, so’s jaehyun.”

the next time they saw each other, jaehyun had a bright smile of his face.

that spring, jaehyun sat on sicheng’s dorm room floor and told him about his crush on one of the guys in his school, a lee seokmin who was in the same vocal club as jaehyun and apparently had a voice worth gushing over for a good ten minutes.

“you can’t tell anybody about this,” he said afterwards. “i haven’t told anyone else.”

“not even ten-hyung? yuta-hyung?”

jaehyun shook his head. his grin was eager, but it was twitching oddly around the edges. sicheng looked at him, and nodded.

“okay.”

 

 

“grab some tissues,” sicheng says. 

yuta slips his change into his pocket and then reaches for the tissue stand and tugs out a couple, thanking the vendor with a bright smile before following sicheng away from the little line in front of the kiosk. sicheng leaves the tarmac and strolls over the lawn, already digging in on his cup.

“hot today,” yuta says, squinting up at the sun which had suddenly decided to show itself, blazing at full power.

“mm,” sicheng says. he nudges yuta’s arm and nods towards an empty spot under a tree, the grass speckled with shade. they head over, crossing between some laughing kids with chocolate stains around their mouths chasing each other, and flop down on the ground.

“let me try yours,” yuta says, spoon already hovering over sicheng’s ice cream like a target-seeking missile. “what’s that, chocolate chip?”

sicheng allows him a spoonful. “yeah.” 

“and the other?”

“strawberry cheesecake.” he snakes his other hand between yuta’s arms. “lemme too.”

yuta chuckles and holds out his cup. they sample and smack their lips for a minute.

“this one’s good.”

“yeah. get your own.”

a soft wind passes, cool and welcome on their skin, bringing the smell of fresh, mowed grass. sicheng licks his lips, a shadow of sweetness lingering on his tongue, and glances at yuta from the corner of his eye. yuta is looking out over the park, grinning at a little dog on a leash on the walkway. 

sicheng draws in a breath, then quietly lets it out again. his big toe starts jerking rhythmically in his sneaker, but he forces it to still. he looks quickly over his left shoulder. it’s pretty empty around them, no running kids or picnicking grannies nearby.

“hyung,” sicheng says.

“mm?”

sicheng bites at his spoon, the edge of the plastic digging into his tongue. “you know how jaehyun and i…”

he trails off there, and yuta looks over at him. “have obscene amounts of sex?” he assists.

sicheng almost chokes on something and has to cough a little. “it’s not that much!” he protests.

yuta tips his head to the side. “how often?”

sicheng shrugs vaguely. “i don’t know… a couple of times a week?”

yuta cocks his brows. “you get laid more than me. and that’s saying something.” he takes another bite and then looks up again. “well? what about it?”

sicheng makes a grimace of sorts. he pokes his spoon around in his cup, making a soft little swirl of pink and brown. “do you think we… like… seem like boyfriends?”

yuta sucks on his spoon for a moment, eyes on sicheng. then he shakes his head. “not really. why?”

sicheng shoves some cream into his mouth and already starts to regret bringing this up. “i don’t know.”

yuta thoughtfully chews on a crunchy nut. “do you think you’re like boyfriends?”

“no… i don’t know.”

“do you want to be his boyfriend?”

sicheng squirms in his spot. “i don’t know.”

“do you feel you should be his boyfriend?”

“i don’t know.”

“does he want to be your boyfriend?”

“i don’t know,” sicheng says again. he takes another spoonful, letting it melt against the roof of his mouth. “i don’t think so.”

yuta looks at him with narrowed eyes, his gaze piercing and uncomfortable. sicheng knows that look. it never bodes well. “are you falling in love with him?”

sicheng feels his cheeks burn mysteriously. the ice cream suddenly feels colder in his stomach. “no,” he says.

yuta doesn’t let him go right away, scanning gaze staying on his face. sicheng keeps his eyes down, shoulders rigid. then, finally, yuta shrugs and returns to his cup. “is it good?”

“what?”

“the sex?” yuta glances up at him. “do you like having sex with him?”

“well,” sicheng says. “yeah.”

yuta hums. “i don’t see the problem. you’re fuckbuddies, nothing wrong with that.” he licks at his spoon, looking out over the grass again. “as long as it works for everyone involved and you’re having fun, then who cares. this is the 21st century, it’s not like you have to get married just because you touch his dick on a regular basis.”

yuta reaches over and pats sicheng’s thigh. “you’re young. enjoy it. play around, live a little.”

sicheng snorts. he scrapes his spoon over the bottom of the paper cup, scooping up the last of the slush. when it's empty he stacks it into yuta’s on the ground and wipes his mouth with the back of his fingers.

“don’t tell jaehyun about this.”

yuta raises a brow at him, but doesn’t say anything. “okay.”

 

 

the glowing digits on the alarm clock read 2:49. sicheng lies still, listening to the patter of rain against the window, the dark rumbles of thunder in the distance. jaehyun’s breaths are long; slow and deep.

he watches the outline of jaehyun’s naked shoulder, grey against grey wall, a highlight at the top of his skin, thick shadows under his shoulder blade. slowly sicheng lifts his hand, reaches out and runs two fingertips over the skin, light, light enough that it won’t wake him; over the curve of his shoulder, down his upper arm.

2:56. sicheng carefully shifts and curls closer, as close as he can to jaehyun’s back without touching him, nose right at his nape, feeling the quiet thrum of body heat. he closes his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is chapter is longer than planned and mostly sex)

sicheng wakes up from movement; the mattress dipping, something knocking against his legs, the loss of warmth at his chest. he grunts and blinks his eyes open, looking down to find jaehyun slipping out at the foot of the bed. 

sleep sits like a heavy blanket over him, and sicheng tips over to his stomach and doesn’t try to keep his eyes open. after a minute or two he hears the muted sound of flushing, seeming far away through the layer of slumber, and then jaehyun is back, prodding at him for taking up the whole bed.

sicheng reluctantly rolls towards the wall, ending up on his back, and it’s not until then that he notices the hefty boner straining happily against the fabric of his underwear. he looks down, still bleary, and must have made a funny face because jaehyun laughs.

“you’ve been poking me for like twenty minutes,” he says as he slips back down under the sheets. his eyes are small, swollen and a little crusty at the corners, his hair tousled and standing up in weird tufts. 

sicheng makes a vague, groaning noise. “i’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing over his eyes. “you could have pushed me off or something.”

“it’s okay,” jaehyun says, chuckling. then he peers at sicheng mischievously, eyes briefly dipping down towards his hips. “you want a hand?”

a grin cracks sicheng’s face open. he takes a moment to check if he just needs to piss, then he stretches lazily and nods. 

jaehyun closes in on him, brushing his hand over sicheng’s cheek. his lips are a bit dry, breath stale from the night, but so is sicheng’s. the kisses are shallow and fumbling, run mostly by muscle memory, while jaehyun’s fingers move over his stomach, nudging the waistband down over his hips. sicheng pushes the sheet off them, the morning air cool on his warm skin. the fingers skim light along his dick, and then curl around it.

it doesn’t take long. some minute passes and then he twitches, gasps against jaehyun’s lips. the orgasm is light, soft like an exhale, more a physical reaction than anything else. but it leaves a warm humming in his belly, his limbs slack against the mattress.

“that was fast,” jaehyun says, his grin smug and annoying.

“shut up,” sicheng mutters.

jaehyun twists around, reaches over and pulls out the top drawer of the dresser, coming back with a handful of tissues. he hands some to sicheng, wiping his fingers with the rest and looking down to check that nothing got on the sheets.

“want me to do you too?” sicheng mumbles, balling up the dirty paper after tucking himself back in.

“i don’t think i can deliver right now,” jaehyun says, wrinkling his nose in some kind of grin. “besides, i should get going.” he gets up and starts digging around in the pile of clothes on the chair, finds his t-shirt from the night before and pulls it on. “if i get back before mom comes back from errands i won’t have to answer any questions.”

 

 

sicheng squeezes a lump of white paste over the bristles, caps the tube and puts the brush in his mouth. he shifts his weight to one foot, left hand hanging limp by his thigh, the right working the shaft with a dull, mechanical thoughtlessness. 

the light from the overhead lamp filters blandly over the bathroom. his eyes rest on the plastic cup over the sink, stuck to the bathroom tile with a little sucker. there is an extra toothbrush there, leaned against the edge next to his flosser. it’s white and blue, the kind with a rubber strip stuck in the middle of the bristles in a squiggly shape.

it was jaehyun who bought it and put it there. one morning, it had appeared. sicheng didn't comment on it.

yuta also stays over sometimes, but yuta doesn’t have a toothbrush in sicheng’s cup. he takes a piece of gum, or he uses sicheng’s brush, without asking, leaving sicheng to discover the deed by finding it wet.

sicheng spits and rinses. 

wiping his hands on his shirt, he shuffles through his apartment and up to his desk. picks at the books stacked or sprawled liberally over the surface. his grammar textbook, a worn notebook, a couple of korean classics they’re supposed to read over the summer, random papers. finds the one he was looking for, holds it for a moment, then puts it down again. his gaze strays out the window, then left, over the room.

the bed still stands unmade, sheets wrinkled and left in a heap, bathing in some warm rays of the early day sun. the bed that he bought when he moved in; big enough for two. when his parents first came to visit he told them he moves around a lot when he sleeps and likes having space. his father nodded easily and moved on to another topic, but he could see his mom rolling her eyes behind his back. _you use protection, right?_ she whispered later when his dad was out of earshot. sicheng blushed and looked down into his food. _yes, mom._

he never had a steady stream of night guests, or anything. it's been months since he even hooked up with someone.

there are two pillows by the head end, comfortably lumpy with use. he never puts away that extra pillow, even though he usually sleeps alone. 

sicheng sighs, grabs his book and heads over to the couch to flop down into the cushions. resolutely, he opens the first page.

 

 

sicheng is pulling a shirt over his head when his phone vibrates on the bed, the sound muted by the bedsheets. he half ruffles, half smooths his hair with his fingers, bending forward to pick it up with his other hand.

_u coming?_

sicheng rounds the bed and steps up to the window, looking down. jaehyun stands in the shadowed backyard, shoulder leaned against the pole holding the roof of the bike shed, his own bike parked next to him. his head is bent down, and sicheng can see the bright square of his phone in his hand.

he taps the screen, the little keyboard sliding up into sight.

_omw_

he pauses in front of his closet, hesitating, then grabs a hoodie from a hook. he empties the books and school supplies out of his backpack, jamming the sweater down, throws in his wallet and (habitually) his earphones too before pulling the zippers closed.

he stops by the mirror in the hallway, fingers brushing at his bangs again. they’ve grown long and started splitting, curving over his eyebrows and leaving a triangle of forehead in the middle that he can’t decide if he likes or not. licks his lips; presses them together, relaxes. pokes a stick of lip balm into the front pocket of the bag before stepping into his shoes and locking the door behind him.

jaehyun looks up and smiles when sicheng comes out and jogs over the tarmac. sicheng meets his extended hand, thumbs locking, and lets jaehyun pull him close to softly knock their shoulders together. 

he squeezes in between the bikes and rolls the code of the lock. jaehyun waits for him, balancing on his wheels with one hand on the edge of the tin roof, till he has pulled his bike out and swung his leg over the saddle.

they park again outside the neighborhood convenience store. jaehyun grabs a plastic basket out of the stack, following sicheng through the aisles. they stop in front of the shelves filled with drinks.

“mom wants you to come over for dinner this week.” jaehyun picks up a bottle, reading the front of the label. “she said something about you needing a meal full of a mother’s love once in a while.” 

sicheng grins a little. “okay.”

“is wednesday good? or thursday?”

“either’s fine.” he bends down and grabs a sixpack.

jaehyun pushes at his hand. “hite sucks. take something imported.” 

sicheng puts it back, picks another. jaehyun holds out the basket. his shoulder sags a little with the weight. 

“you want something else?”

jaehyun shrugs. “have you tried this?” he says, pointing at a bottle of hard cider. “i think you’d like it.”

sicheng plucks a glass bottle filled with sparkly, rosy pink fluid off the shelf. strawberry and lime. he takes a second one (green, pear) too and slips them both down next to the beer. “actually. i think wednesday's better.” he crosses the floor and opens one of the coolers, grabs a plastic water bottle and lets it join the others. jaehyun holds the handle with both hands.

“so, wednesday? at, like, seven?”

“sure.”

“cool. i’ll tell her.”

sicheng turns the corner, passes two aisles. “you want chips?”

jaehyun waddles after him. “of course i want chips.”

sicheng grins. he finds the snacks section, picks out a bag and drops it on top of the cans. 

“honey butter, honey butter,” jaehyun hisses over his shoulder.

sicheng extends a questioning finger.

“no, the other one. to the left.”

they stroll through the rest of the store and up the register. jaehyun puts the basket on the counter, then steps back and lets sicheng pay. he packs the plastic logo-printed bags, taking one of them and waiting for sicheng just outside the range of the automatic doors till he follows with the other.

“hold on,” sicheng says when they’re outside, propping his backpack on the saddle to stuff down the single bottles next to his sweatshirt.

“why did i get the heavy one,” jaehyun asks, hanging his bag off the bike handle.

“that’s your problem.”

the sun has set, the heat slowly starting to creep out of the air. it feels fresh, smelling less of fumes and streets and more of greenery - something sweet, something pricklingly sour, something like lush, thick leaves - when they cross a road and come out between smaller houses, plots with bushes and patches of grass.

a cool wind strokes sicheng’s face, playing with his hair, flipping it up and backwards. suddenly he smiles, feels like laughing. he pedals a little harder, comes up alongside jaehyun, and jaehyun turns his head and then he does; bubbling with gratuitous giggles. jaehyun grins, perhaps surprised for a moment, but it’s contagious, instantly, and he laughs too. his laugh is darker, smooth, a little breathless from the ride.

a faintly purple filter has sunk over the world and jaehyun’s skin is blueish, a pale lavender, the blonde of his hair almost tinted pink. his smile makes sicheng feel light, almost weightless.

a couple of girls appear on the sidewalk, heading in the opposite direction. one has short shorts with a high waist, the other a dress with thin straps, the hem of it fluttering around her thighs as she walks.

sicheng turns his head when they speed past them, mostly by instinct, getting an eyeful of ass and smooth hair before he realizes he’s off-track, front wheel dangerously close to jaehyun’s side. he whips his eyes back to the road, finding jaehyun doing the same. he snorts, and when jaehyun meets his gaze and catches on they both crack up.

“the blonde one was hot,” jaehyun says.

“are you kidding?” sicheng’s grin is wide. “the one with brown hair was way hotter.”

soon they reach youngho’s street. jaehyun looks behind them and they turn left into the pathway between the houses, paved and lined with green hedges. it leads to a stretch of open ground between the blocks, well-trimmed grass dotted with bushes, cut through by the path forking off in different directions. jaehyun rolls out over the lawn, steering towards a cluster of trees on the small rise of a hill.

youngho raises his arm at them. “yo!”

they jump off and walk the last bit up to the site; a round, concrete barbeque surrounded by four wooden benches. ten sits on the one next to youngho’s, already nursing a bottle. yuta looks up, haunched on the ground digging through the contents of a bag. 

“no fire?” jaehyun asks, parking his bike against a tree. the pit is empty, save from some ashes and old, burned chunks. “you said there’d be fire.”

youngho makes a face. “i couldn’t be arsed.”

jaehyun tsks. he puts his grocery bag on one of the empty benches. “we come bearing brew.”

“sweet.”

“we got cass,” yuta says, pointing his thumb behind him where an opened cardboard pack sits at the edge of the bench. 

“cass sucks,” jaehyun says. “you should buy imported.”

yuta snorts. “since when are you a beer snob?” 

“xiao dong,” youngho says, looking over at sicheng. “what else you got?”

sicheng sits down next to him, dropping his backpack by his side. “snacks. and cider.”

youngho peeks into the plastic bag. “sour cream and onions, bless you.”

“we’ve got pretzels and marshmallows too,” ten says, nodding towards yuta’s bag.

“marshmallows, but no fire?” jaehyun shakes his head, cracking a can open. “you really dropped the ball on this one, hyung.” the fluid bubbles over a little and he quickly puts it to his lips, sipping up the excess.

youngho frowns at him. “if you want to cut down a tree and start one, be my fucking guest.”

jaehyun wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and then wipes his hand on his jeans. “it can’t be that hard to get some wood.”

yuta grins. “i get wood every day.”

ten snickers around a marshmallow. “wood is great.”

“true. love getting my hands on some wood.”

“dark wood, pale wood…”

“wood never hurts.”

“well, sometimes.”

youngho rolls his eyes. “how old are you guys?”

yuta cackles. “cheng-cheng,” he says, nodding at sicheng. he points to the pack at his side. “you with us, or you want jaehyun’s pretentious shit?”

sicheng shrugs. “beer’s beer.” he stands up and leans over the grill, taking the bottle yuta reaches him.

jaehyun looks up at him, pouting over his can. “dude.”

sicheng sits back down next to youngho. “who has an opener?”

ten nods to his right. “johnny does.”

youngho looks around him, then hands sicheng a clunky, fancy thing with a wooden handle.

sicheng giggles. “did you steal this from your parents?”

“it’s not stealing if you plan to return it,” youngho says. “but yes. i figured we could use some flair out here.”

“it was the only one you could find,” yuta says.

youngho nods. “that too.”

sicheng gets the cap off and puts the smooth glass to his lips, holding back the grimace at the first wave of bitterness. it’s getting darker, but the sky is still a dusty blue, doming high over them. out here you can barely hear the streets and restlessness of the city, just the wind through the leaves, a couple of late birds. faintly, the shouts and thuds from a bunch of kids playing soccer down the lawn, an engine in the distance.

ten reaches over, waving the bag of marshmallows at him and sicheng takes one, sinks his teeth into the softness. dry, sweet, melting in his mouth.

“my parents are going away this weekend,” youngho says when sicheng’s almost through his first bottle. he nods his head in the general direction of his garden. “so we have the house, if we want.”

“sweet.” yuta claps his hands together. “house party. god bless suburbia.”

“what did you have in mind?” jaehyun asks. he’s leaned back on his bench, feet propped up on the edge of the grill.

youngho shrugs. “nothing big. we could have some people over.”

ten gives a cackle. “what, like a dinner party?”

“what?” youngho chuckles, frowning at him. “no. like,” he shrugs again, ”we buy some pizzas, people bring some beer and stuff, we listen to music and hang out. there would be girls,” he adds with a bright salesman smile, but then glances over at yuta and ten and drops it off his face. “right, sorry. nevermind.”

“hey, i like girls,” yuta says, straightening up in his seat. “sometimes. wait, what kind of girls are we talking? are they gonna be econ majors? ‘cause i don’t do econ majors.”

“i don’t know.” youngho sips from his can. “why don’t you call up some girls you know, so they are to your satisfaction.”

yuta stutters. “thanks, that doesn’t sound creepy.”

ten rolls his eyes. “i can fix you some chicks.”

youngho snaps his fingers. “you should ask your dance club members,” he says, looking between sicheng and ten. “momo and… what’s her name?”

“cheng xiao,” sicheng says.

“right.”

yuta hums. “that momo is one fine piece of ass.”

“dude.” youngho frowns. “language.”

yuta throws his hands out. “it was a compliment!”

“anyway,” youngho says. he looks at sicheng. “you’ll do it?”

sicheng grins, reaching into the bag in youngho’s lap for a couple of chips. “okay.”

youngho points at jaehyun. “and you’ll get us some cute sopranos, right?”

jaehyun snorts. “you still haven’t given up on park sooyoung?”

“well, maybe i have, maybe i haven’t, maybe you could ask her to come anyway?” youngho rambles, voice rising a notch in pitch. sicheng knows that tone, though, and knows he’s barely half serious. “for me? do your best friend a favor?”

“you’re not my best friend,” jaehyun says, not missing a beat. “sicheng is my best friend.”

youngho puts a hand to his chest, mock-scandalized. “but we’re bros. raised on american soil,” he says in english, but sicheng picks up the gist of it. “the spirit of the states runs through the both of us.”

“what spirit?” jaehyun laughs, the foreign syllables rolling easy off his tongue. “i don’t even have american citizenship.”

“did those four years mean nothing to you?”

“we didn’t even live in the same state!”

ten snorts into his bottle, almost spurting cider over himself.

youngho sniffs. “i’m offended.”

“hey,” yuta says. “korean, please.”

jaehyun laughs again. “no promises on sooyoung-noona because she kind of scares me,” he says, switching back. “but i can check with a couple of the others, okay?”

youngho grins. “fair enough.”

“what about me, though?” ten whines. “who’s gonna get a cute boy for me?”

“why? you’ve got me,” yuta says, voice silky. “am i not good enough for you?” he snakes one arm around ten’s neck and ten pulls his shoulders up into turtle-mode, writhing out of his reach.

“get your hands off me.”

yuta laughs and lets him go. “speaking of,” he says suddenly, slapping ten on the arm with the back of his hand. “did you meet up with that guy you were texting?” he asks. “how did it go?”

ten is rubbing his arm with a pout, but then his mouth splits in a wide, foxy grin - the kind of grin that has a story to tell.

it takes some token coaxing ( _i’m not the kiss-and-tell type,_ ten says, and yuta scoffs and says _you never kiss without telling, you’ve literally called me at 3AM because you got laid and needed to share the good news_ ), then he tells it, and when he’s done they’re all roaring; deep, manly _woooo_ s and _damn_ s. youngho’s doing a slow-clap, and yuta is smacking ten on the shoulder. it doesn’t take a lot to excite them, but still.

“fuck,” yuta says. “that reminds me of this guy i met on jack’d.”

sicheng knows how this goes: someone tells a story, and then someone else, and then someone else. yuta has good ones. more than once has has he been accused of making shit up and at least once has he tracked down the guy in question to provide receipts.

youngho goes next; the time he had a girl over and his parents came home earlier than they were supposed to, but he managed to both get her off and out of the house without them noticing.

yuta looks at him flatly, upper lip pulled up a little. “so you had quiet sex and could find a clit and nobody walked in on you,” he says. “no offence, but straight guys are so boring.”

youngho shrugs and takes a sip, seemingly satisfied enough with his life.

jaehyun has perked up in his seat, taken his feet off the grill, attentively following the conversation. a grin has grown on his face, and now he’s wetting his lips, waiting for his turn.

sicheng snorts quietly to himself. jaehyun’s always like this. ever since they were in high school and his crowning achievement was getting to second base with a girl in an empty classroom he has loved the custom of gathering around and sharing your raunchy experiences with your peers, never missing an opportunity to show off. unfortunately, his repertoire still isn’t very impressive.

“i was once with this guy,” he starts, voice casual. “pretty face, great lips - total DSLs. the kind where you look at them and just go, _wow, i need to see those on my dick._ ”

yuta is already rolling his eyes. “was it sicheng?”

“shut up, it wasn’t.” jaehyun isn’t fazed by the interruption. “so we’re in the backseat of my car and we’re making out and i’m like, _you wanna suck me off?_ \--”

youngho turns to sicheng. “was it you?”

“yep,” sicheng says, mouth full of sour cream chips, not even looking up from the bag.

“hey,” jaehyun says. “you don’t know that.”

sicheng looks at him blankly. “wanna bet?”

now jaehyun has a wrinkle between his brows. “can i just tell my story?”

“is this the one where you almost got caught by an old couple and had to pretend you were changing?” ten asks. “because you’ve told that one twice already.”

youngho snickers, leaning over to give ten a low five. jaehyun pouts and sits back again.

“for the record,” yuta tells jaehyun, pointing at sicheng’s face. “those are not DSLs.”

ten laughs, high-pitched. “right?”

sicheng wipes his hand on his jeans. “this one time we were doing it on the couch, and when we were done he got out his phone and checked the tv guide and was like, _shrek is on in five minutes._ ” he stretches up a little, face shining, voice a decent imitation of jaehyun’s. “ _wanna watch it?_ and i was like, okay.” 

yuta’s grinning wide, quiet giggles playing in the back of his throat. youngho leans forward, pinching his lips together.

“he’s like, _you want popcorn?_ and i’m like, sure. so he pulls his pants up and runs and makes popcorn and then we watched shrek.”

youngho snorts thickly and can’t hold it in anymore, smacking his thigh with his palm. yuta and ten cling to each other, shivering with laughter. 

jaehyun has his head bent down, fingers fiddling with a thread at the edge of his pants, but sicheng can see the lopsided grin stretched over his face. he waits for the giggles to calm, then he looks up, back straight, and casually flicks his hair out of his eyes.

youngho clears his throat, quickly straightening his face. “can’t blame you though,” he says soberly. “it’s a classic.”

jaehyun raises his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, palms turned up. “i mean i still got laid, so…” he says. “i call that a win-win.”

sicheng laughs with the others, jaehyun joining them. then youngho tells ten not to hog the marshmallows, yuta opens another bottle and the conversation moves on to a new topic. sicheng lets himself look over at jaehyun, and their eyes meet over the empty fireplace. jaehyun’s still smiling, but softer now, just a pull at his cheek. twilight is taking the colors out of him, leaving him in shades of blue, blurry around the edges. sicheng feels himself smile back, the motion faint and automatic.

then youngho nudges him with a question and sicheng looks away.

 

 

00:21  
_u up?_

00:23  
_lol yea_

 

 

jaehyun is warm on top of him. his lips damp at sicheng’s neck, the sound of his breathing right by his ear; steady, but thick. there’s the soft creaking of the bed springs, the brushing of skin against sheets. the low groans; quiet strainings of the throat, tightening, and releasing.

jaehyun’s hand slides back down between their bodies, the touch light, fleeting, unhurried. enough to keep him on his toes, keep the edge of his skin lit and sensitive, his back arching, pressing up; without moving forward. they have time. they have all night, if they want to. not that sicheng would be able to go that long.

when soft, teasing fingers leave him he worms his own hand down, and jaehyun inches away from him, giving him space. finds, curls his hand around that shape, hot and familiar. blood pulses at the pads of his fingers, and it’s tempting, deliciously. he keeps his grip light, runs his thumb over the wet tip, knowing how it will make jaehyun huff against his lips. 

he thinks about moving down; tasting it. wants to feel it in his mouth.

he draws his hand back, slides it up jaehyun’s waist. curls the arm around jaehyun’s neck, licks his tongue into his mouth. slick, lips blind, finding their way, feeling, knowing each other.

jaehyun pulls back and grins down at him, his face half in shadow, one eye dark, the other hazel brown.

“hold on,” he mumbles, pushes himself up and leaves him. he sits at the edge of the bed and pulls out one of the drawers of the dresser. scans over the contents, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows, then pushes it back in and pulls out the next. “did you run out?”

“bottom drawer,” sicheng tells him. 

“huh,” jaehyun hums absently and bends down, rummaging around for a moment before coming back up with the small tube of lube. 

sicheng rarely uses it for himself, but jaehyun likes it. he turns towards sicheng again and holds it up with a questioning grin, and sicheng grins back and holds out his right hand. 

“you moved it.” jaehyun flicks the cap open and squeezes a little into sicheng’s palm.

“i didn’t know it…” sicheng has to pause, find the word. “had a place.” he curls his fingers, spreading the cool gel over his hand as jaehyun slides back down next to him. leans closer, brushing his nose against jaehyun’s when he fits his hand around his dick, grinning again at the soft grunt jaehyun lets out at the contact.

“what if there’s an emergency and i can’t find it.” jaehyun’s voice is floaty, absent.

sicheng giggles, quiet and breathy. “a lube crisis?”

he starts a slow rhythm, tightening his fingers gently with every stroke up towards the head. he’s still close, lips instinctively parted, brushes them against jaehyun’s to see if he’ll respond. he does; groans again and hooks his hand around sicheng’s neck, thumb brushing under his ear, tongue flicking against his upper lip.

it’s nice, but the angle is weird, and sicheng’s arm soon starts hurting from being trapped under him, moving in the small space between their bodies. he gives jaehyun one last kiss before pushing himself up to his knees, pressing jaehyun down on his back with his clean hand. jaehyun raises his brows for a moment, but quickly wiggles to adjust when sicheng swings one leg over him to straddle his thighs. 

he bends down to slide his tongue over jaehyun’s nipple while gripping him again, lazily twisting his hand around his shaft. better now, with fresh blood flow to his arm, and a good view of jaehyun’s face; eyes closed, bottom lip caught between his teeth, a small frown twitching and deepening with sicheng’s movements. 

“good?” he asks, voice low.

jaehyun only hums thickly. “mm.”

something quivers inside sicheng, and he draws in a sharp breath. his dick stands full between his legs, an impatient itching starting to grow somewhere deep in his pelvis. 

jaehyun looks up at him when he shifts on his knees, forward, till he can align their dicks together and fit his hand around them both. his fingers are long, the strokes a little clumsy but enough to make him hiss through his teeth.

jaehyun’s hands come on his thighs, and when he meets his gaze jaehyun has an impish grin on his face, eyes lazily half-lidded, peering up at him from under his bangs. sicheng flashes a smile back; exhales, a little shakily. then he stills his hand and starts moving his hips instead, sliding his dick against jaehyun’s, tightly lined together in the nest of his slick fingers.

jaehyun tips his head back; hoarse, gasp-like chuckles from the back of his throat. sicheng bites his lip, grinning. heat seems to radiate off his skin in bursts, almost making him dizzy. he reaches out his free hand and cards it through jaehyun’s hair, pushing his bangs backwards, out of his face. wants to see him, all of him.

he keeps his hips going, smooth, rolling waves, for a minute or two, then something twinges in his thigh and he stutters, slows.

“you okay?” jaehyun mumbles.

sicheng nods. “just. give me a moment.”

jaehyun’s hands move a little over his thighs, up and down, soothing. then they slide up, all the way, settling on his waist, and sicheng feels jaehyun shift beneath him, bending his knees and digging his heels into the mattress. his hips lift a little under sicheng, starts moving against him.

sicheng grunts and wobbles, leans forward to steady himself on his left hand against the mattress, letting jaehyun rut them together in the clenched grip of his fingers. his hips buck at the friction, all on their own, dick twitching against his thumb. he presses his lips together, must almost remind himself to breathe when seeing jaehyun look up at him with that smug little grin.

he must lean down, must kiss it off him. it’s messy now, months of practice forgotten, damp breaths mingling between them. has to feel his mouth against his own, the urge pulling, deep in his belly, burning hotter than the climax building in his crotch.

then comes the moment when it’s too much, when he can’t hold it.

he leaves him, sits back against jaehyun’s thighs, huffing, jerks himself fast and precise.

jaehyun doesn’t wait. he grips himself too, dick still wet with lube, falls into an almost matching pace. sicheng licks his lips, distantly aware of his mouth opening and closing, keeps his eyes locked with jaehyun’s till he comes. 

a high whine wrings itself out of him, something he can feel embarrassed about at a later date. his load drips down on jaehyun’s stomach, and he leans over him, just breathing, face turned down to watch jaehyun’s cock, red and hard in jaehyun’s hand, till it follows. streaks of thin white mixing on his skin, chest rising and falling.

he looks up, finds jaehyun’s eyes again, finds him equally breathless; gaze distant, lost in some faraway land and piercingly focused on sicheng at the same time.

suddenly, like a spell breaking, jaehyun laughs. 

“fuck,” he breathes, blinks, and then his eyes are normal again.

sicheng smiles absently. his blood is still pumping, jacked with the release, but his limbs feel heavy, his right hand stiff. he wants to slide down next to jaehyun, lie close, wonders if he at all cares about dealing with the mess right now. 

jaehyun peers down at his stomach. “why am i the only one covered in come? not fair.”

sicheng snorts, a giggle breaking out of him. “stay here,” he says, swiftly climbs off him, slips through the room and into the bathroom. he washes off his hands and groin, then wets the hand towel and squeezes it out over the sink till it stops dripping.

jaehyun is still where he left him, diligently, lying with his left arm under his head. sicheng sits at his side and tugs out some tissues to wipe off most of the mess. then he runs the rag gently over his skin; over the slight rise of his pecs, down over the soft belly, the little string of dark hairs, over his balls and his droopy, softening dick.

he glances up to find jaehyun’s eyes on him, something unfamiliar in them, something hard to read.

“what?” sicheng asks, grin half, suddenly self-conscious.

jaehyun smiles, just a little. “nothing,” he says. he wipes his hands on the towel, taking time to rub between his fingers, and then sicheng jogs back to the bathroom again to drop it on the shower floor. a later problem.

jaehyun scoots over when he comes back and sicheng quietly lies down next to him, both stretched out on their backs.

sicheng wonders if it’s too late to kiss him; if the window has passed.

“are you staying?” he asks.

jaehyun turns his head to him, but sicheng keeps his eyes on the ceiling. “if you want me to.”

something warm curls in sicheng’s belly, sweet like a flash of afterglow. he jerks one shoulder in a shrug. “sure.”

“cool.”


	4. Chapter 4

six fifty-five on wednesday evening sicheng stands outside the door of the jung residence and presses his finger onto the bell button. it’s one of the newer houses in the area; a sleek semi-detached in grey brick, two stories squeezed in a slope with a small garden at the back. a narrow, tiled path lined with gravel leads along the side wall up to the steps.

it doesn’t take long before there’s sounds of movement in the hallway, and then jaehyun pushes the door open, wearing a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“come in,” he says, stepping back into the hallway. 

sicheng closes the door after him. “what’s up?”

jaehyun shrugs, hands in his back pockets. “not much.”

sicheng puts his shoes on the rack and follows jaehyun through the hallway and into the kitchen.

“sicheng,” jaehyun’s mother calls when she turns around, lighting up. she still doesn’t get his name quite right, but not for lack of trying. she replaces the lid of the pot she was stirring and wipes her hands on her grey apron. “how are you? good?”

“i’m good,” sicheng says, standing in the middle of the kitchen and letting her pat his cheek. jaehyun leans against the counter, arms crossed, grinning at the scene.

“oh, you’re so skinny. are you sure you’re eating well?”

“uh,” sicheng says, thinking about the huge pot of stew jaehyun cooked the other day and which he’s been living off since. “yes, quite well.”

“boys your age are still growing.” she waves a finger at him, throwing a waggle at jaehyun too for good measure. “and with work and dancing and sports and everything. you have to eat to be strong.”

sicheng smiles, can’t help it. “i know.”

she smiles back. “how was home?” she continues, returning to the cutting board. “are your parents well?”

“yeah, they’re good.”

they help carry the pots and side dishes out to the back porch where the table is set for four. jaehyun pushes sicheng into one of the chairs and goes to call for his dad. jaehyun’s mother scoops a generous amount of rice into sicheng’s bowl, reaching him every serving plate available.

“sicheng, you’re taking summer classes?” jaehyun’s father asks and nods while sicheng tells him about the advanced korean course for international students. the reading load isn’t big, but sicheng omits to mention that a couple of hours a day usually is enough and that he tends to spend his afternoons gaming instead.

“he’s picking up such fancy words,” jaehyun says with food in his mouth. “i don’t even know some of them.”

“sounds like an opportunity to brush up on your vocab,” jaehyun’s dad says, grinning at him.

it’s nice sitting outdoors. the grass of the small lawn is dark green, separated from the neighbor lot with a thick, well-trimmed hedge. the air is cool, a breeze veiling the hint of dampness hanging in it. jaehyun’s mother peers up at the overcast sky.

“the forecast said no rain, but i don’t know…” she sighs. “i hope the rainy season won’t drag on too long. it’s hopeless trying to air out your clothes or bedspreads in this weather, not to mention laundry. it never really dries.” she takes a bite and looks up at sicheng. “sicheng, do you have a drier?”

“yeah, in the laundry room.”

“so you use it in the summer?”

sicheng nods. “usually.”

“still, living in such a small apartment. you don’t have a balcony, right? it must be hard airing out your blankets, and your futon?”

sicheng blinks at her. “my futon?”

she nods. “the one jaehyun sleeps on when he stays over.”

jaehyun’s foot taps against sicheng’s under the table.

“uh,” sicheng says. “oh, that. yeah, it’s hard.”

after two servings and more generous scoops of rice sicheng is stuffed. 

“there’s watermelon for dessert,” jaehyun’s mom says after not managing to coax another bite into anybody.

jaehyun grunts vaguely, one hand splayed on his stomach. “maybe later.”

“thank you for the meal,” sicheng tells her. “it was delicious.”

jaehyun’s mom grins at him, a familiar-looking dimple poking into her cheek. “my pleasure.”

“yeah, thanks mom,” jaehyun adds.

“don’t mind the dishes, kids,” jaehyun’s dad tells them. “i’ll handle it.”

sicheng follows jaehyun up the stairs and into his room, where jaehyun immediately flops down and splays over the floor with a sigh. “i’m so full.”

sicheng grins, steps over him and stretches out on his back on jaehyun’s bed, halfheartedly made with a blue cover.

jaehyun frowns up at him. “hey.”

sicheng puts his arm under his head. “what. it was unoccupied.”

“it’s my bed,” jaehyun informs him, like for the sake of it.

sicheng relaxes into the softness of the sheets underneath, letting his eyes slide shut. “i don’t see your name on it.”

when his digestive system has started dispersing the sense of denseness under his ribcage and the thought of moving doesn’t seem so unappealing anymore, jaehyun pushes himself off the floor.

“i was thinking,” he starts, walking over and grabbing something off his bookcase. “can you help me out with something?” he holds up a small paper box, wiggling it in sicheng’s direction. a pretty, airbrushed woman smiles at him from the front, teeth blindingly white and hair a glossy, chocolate brown.

“i’m tired of it,” jaehyun says, running his other hand through his bleached bangs with a grimace. “i can do it myself but it’s easier with a second pair of hands. do you have time?”

“now?”

“yeah.” jaehyun grins. “if you’re ready.”

“okay.”

jaehyun digs out some towels and old t-shirts, and then they lock themselves in the upstairs bathroom. 

“do you need to wash your hair first?”

jaehyun squints at the instructions. “no, it’s supposed to be dry.” he has emptied out the box by the sink and started lining up the ingredients. sicheng takes the pamphlet and sits down on the toilet lid.

“full grey hair coverage,” he reads. 

“mhm,” jaehyun hums. “here, hold this.” he puts the opened bottle in sicheng’s hand before squeezing the contents of a tube into it. 

sicheng looks up. “have you done your 48-hour allergy test?”

jaehyun grins, shaking his head. “i go hardcore.” he screws the cap back onto the bottle and starts shaking it vigorously. sicheng spreads one of the towels over his lap and puts on the big plastic gloves.

jaehyun peers at the fluid through the semi-opaque plastic. “is that enough?”

“i don’t know.”

“i think that’s enough.”

he hands sicheng the bottle and takes a seat in front of him on the floor, legs crossed. sicheng runs his left hand through jaehyun’s two-colored hair before squeezing out a blob of dye at the top of his scalp.

it’s not his first time; he has helped jaehyun before, and yuta once or twice too. it’s easy when you don’t have to do the roots. he coats the hair section by section, carefully rubbing the fluid into the strands. it’s not as bad as bleach but the smell is still strong, stinging in his nose and eyes. at one point he has to turn his head away and draw in a breath of fresh air.

jaehyun must have heard him, because he chuckles. “how’re you doing?”

“i’m fine,” sicheng says, voice just a little tight. he pulls jaehyun’s bangs back and squirts out a thick string of dye. rubs his fingers over the area, biting his lip, hesitating. then he leans forward a little and says in a low voice: “are you ever going to tell your parents?”

“tell them what?”

“that you’re not straight.”

jaehyun hums. “i guess,” he says quietly. “i mean, i’m not scared to. they’re cool, i think they’d be okay with it.” he pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around his knees. “it’s just kind of awkward to bring it up. _hey, by the way, i fuck dudes._ ” 

sicheng snorts. 

jaehyun’s shoulders jerk in a small shrug. “there hasn’t been any reason to do it.”

“reason?”

“well, i mean. if i were to get a boyfriend, or something, and wanted to introduce him. obviously i’d have to mention it.” he laughs, and sicheng follows, hoping it doesn’t sound hollow.

he cards his fingers through the saturated strands and thinks quietly to himself that it’s good that jaehyun’s mother doesn’t know. mothers get things. she probably wouldn’t treat him differently, but maybe something would still change. sicheng wouldn’t want _hi, i’m screwing your son_ on his forehead every time he comes over.

she would ask jaehyun if sicheng is his boyfriend. and jaehyun would say no.

“are you gonna?” jaehyun asks. “i mean, tell your dad?”

sicheng is quiet for a moment. “yeah,” he says. “i guess.”

“what does your mom say?”

“that i should take my time. and that she won’t feed him if he says something stupid.”

jaehyun laughs again, and it makes sicheng grin. he smooths jaehyun’s hair back over his head, sticking together in an oily-looking backslick. 

“you’re done. set the timer.”

they clean up, leaving the window open to air out the small space, and then cross the hall back to jaehyun’s room. 

“there’s this song you gotta hear,” jaehyun says and grabs his laptop off his desk. he takes a seat on the floor, putting the computer down in front of him, fingertip sliding over the touchpad. sicheng sits down next to him, out of range of the chemical fumes floating around his head.

when jaehyun’s phone jingles he gets up and leaves to rinse out.

he comes back some fifteen minutes later, in shorts and no shirt and with a towel hanging over his head. he bends forward a little, rubbing it over his scalp, then flips his head back, grinning at sicheng and brushing through his bangs. his hair damp and black, falling unruly over his forehead.

“what do you think?”

sicheng smiles weakly. “hard to tell,” he says. “it’s still wet.”

jaehyun opens the closet door and stands in front of the mirror hanging on the inside, angling his face this way and that. “yeah, it looks really dark now.” he snorts to himself. “feels weird. i haven't had dark hair in like a year.”

the shorts hang low on his hips, beneath the soft curve of his stomach. some moisture sits at his lower back, a lonely drop running down the side of his spine. sicheng can see the faint tan gradually deepening down his arm, the hint of a line over his bicep, and over his shoulder blade. some strands of dark hair lie slicked against the back of his neck.

sicheng swallows. “you look good.”

jaehyun glances at him, a tug of a smile at his mouth. “thanks.” he turns, grabs a tank from one of the wire baskets and pulls it over his head. “and thanks for the help, _bee-eff-eff._ ” his tone changes at the last word, a little high-pitched and cutesy. like it’s half a joke. but sicheng knows the other half isn’t.

he hangs the towel over his chair and sits back down next to sicheng on the floor. “what are you watching?”

the flowery smell of conditioner seeps heavy into sicheng’s nose. jaehyun’s arm grazes his, tiny downy hairs brushing featherlight over his skin. his lower lip is jutting out cutely, the way it does when he’s looking down or is lost in thought, the door is closed, and sicheng wants to kiss him.

he pictures himself leaning over, pictures jaehyun turning his head. it would be easy. like second nature.

sicheng turns back to the screen. “just some music videos.”

 

 

jaehyun calls him on friday night.

“about tomorrow,” he says, pausing as if he’s swallowing something or trying to get something out of his teeth. “you can ride with me if you want. i’m taking the car.”

“why?” sicheng asks.

“well. i talked to these girls in the choir, right, and i promised to pick them up. they don’t know the area.”

“okay,” sicheng says. “who’s coming?”

jaehyun grunts noncommittally. “you don’t know them.”

“how many?”

“just two.”

“huh.” sicheng fingers on the remote, zapping around on mute. “so if you’re not drinking, that means you leave it to me to pay for the booze.”

jaehyun laughs. “yep. pick me up some soda while you’re at it.”

sicheng smiles. there’s some noise in the background of the line, a distant humming. “are you on break?”

“yeah, i’m closing tonight. what’re you doing?”

sicheng grins to himself. “just lying on my couch, watching tv, having a cold one.” he reaches for the can and takes a sip, making sure to slurp obnoxiously in the process.

“well, good for you.”

“yeah.”

jaehyun laughs breathily. “i gotta get back. talk to you tomorrow.”

sicheng hums. “have fun at work,” he sing-songs.

“thaaanksss.”

 

 

they pull into a parking pocket outside the subway station with almost ten minutes to spare.

“should i move back?” sicheng asks, trying not to think about how much this feels like a double date already.

jaehyun just waves a hand at him. “no no, stay where you are.” he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming a dissonant, absentminded rhythm against the bottom of the wheel. sometimes he stretches his neck, looking through the windows towards the station entrance.

sicheng takes out his phone. 

after a couple of minutes jaehyun pushes his door open and gets out, one hand staying on the roof of the car, the other lifting to wave. soon sicheng hears voices, and jaehyun’s smooth laughter and casual pleasantries. the next moment the back doors open and two girls climb inside. 

sicheng twists his neck to look into the backseat, wishing he had also got out of the car to greet them.

one of the girls leans forward a little. “hi,” she says, smile wide and easy. she’s pretty. long hair, a sleeveless top. she says her name, and then points her thumb at her friend, whom sicheng can’t see, and introduces her too. another, perky hello comes from behind him.

sicheng’s neck hurts. he nods and stretches his lips in a smile. “i’m sicheng.”

“oh, you’re a foreigner, right?”

“yeah. i’m chinese.”

“jaehyun has talked about you.”

sicheng glances at jaehyun, back in the seat next to him. “he has?”

jaehyun doesn’t look at him, only shrugs vaguely and turns the key in the ignition. “everyone buckled up?”

they roll out of the parking lot and back onto the road. other than some polite chatting ( _how old are you, seucheong? oh, so i’m your noona_ ), the car ride passes mostly in silence. sicheng looks out the window, his shoulders locked in a line against the backrest. 

after some ten minutes jaehyun parks at the side of the street in front of youngho’s house. the front door stands open, music faintly reaching them from inside.

sicheng grabs his bag of clinking bottles and walks ahead of the others up the steps. he peeks into the living room before taking the liberty of continuing into the kitchen. it’s empty, and neatly cleaned. an assortment of drinks and snacks has been gathered on the table. sicheng pokes around in it a little before unloading his contributions to the alcoholic potluck.

he comes back out to the hallway just in time to hear jaehyun’s voice; “...i don’t know where he went.”

youngho spots him then, and grins at him. “call off the search party. found him.”

“what?” sicheng says, walking into the lounge.

“chengseu,” yuta calls, immediately coming up to drape an arm around his shoulder. “i’ve been waiting for you.” his lips hover dangerously close to sicheng’s cheek, hand sneaking up to tug softly at sicheng’s earlobe.

“are you drunk already?” sicheng asks, ducking his head away to reclaim some personal space.

yuta rests his chin on his shoulder, a lazy smirk stretched over his face. “just a little. dons and i got here early.”

sicheng nudges him off and looks around. music streams from two wireless speakers set up at either side of the room. two girls sit by the window, sipping from cans. youngho’s friend taeyong is sitting in one of the armchairs, talking to another guy sicheng doesn’t know. jaehyun has walked over to join them. sicheng settles with a greeting nod. 

youngho is chatting easily with the sopranos, making them laugh with cheesy jokes. he offers a quick tour of his _humble abode_ and all three disappear into the dining room.

“hey, sicheng,” comes a voice from behind, and sicheng turns around to find doyoung in the open doorway leading out to the back porch. sicheng heads towards him, yuta in tow.

the lawn is still wet from the shower earlier but there’s a small garden table and a couple of chairs on the right side of the veranda. ten is perched on the railing framing the deck, him and kun’s girlfriend yiyang engaged in some conversation with cheng xiao. doyoung drops back into his chair next to kun, holding out an unopened can of beer in sicheng’s direction.

“you want?”

ten looks up. “oh, sicheng. when did you get here?” he says, staying in mandarin.

“just now.” sicheng cracks the can open and crosses over to lean against the railing next to ten.

“did you take your bike?”

sicheng shakes his head. “zaixuan’s driving.”

ten hums, then sighs. “i also want a car.” 

“you don't have a licence,” kun reminds him.

“i could get one,” ten says. his face twists in a whiny pout. “public transport is a mess this far out in the city.”

doyoung throws his head back in a cackle. “are you complaining about having to walk five minutes to a bus stop? try living in a small town.”

sicheng laughs with the others. it’s nice to use his mother tongue like this once in a while, not just over the phone with his parents. he forgets words sometimes, occasionally having to fall back on korean, but the sentences still flow easy and natural, the sounds and syllables comfortable and smooth in his mouth.

yuta lingers for a while, ambitiously trying to follow the conversation with a concentrated wrinkle between his brows, (attempting comments here and there but not managing more than a couple of words into a sentence before having to look to sicheng or doyoung for help,) before giving up and heading back inside.

sicheng follows him some hour later, spotting him in a corner flirting with a girl in the fervent, mechanic way of a dog digging a pit without any plans on what to use it for. she looks entertained, though, so sicheng refrains from redirecting his attention at the moment, having a feeling that it would end up on himself instead.

jaehyun is sitting on the couch, talking to one of the girls. sicheng grabs a slice of pizza from the box standing open on the coffee table and sits down on the armrest next to him.

jaehyun looks up at him with a little smile. “hey.”

“hey,” sicheng says, chewing. he nods down towards the can in jaehyun’s hand. “what are you drinking?”

jaehyun holds it up. “beer. non-alcoholic. courtesy of the ladies.” he nods his head towards the girl at his side. she grins. 

“a thanks for being a gentleman.”

“how is it?” sicheng asks.

“not too bad, actually.”

she playfully swats jaehyun on the arm. sicheng grins.

barely has he finished his slice and stolen jaehyun’s napkin to wipe the grease off his fingers before a looming presence appears at his side, an arm descending around his neck. 

“hey,” says a slimy voice in his ear, a gust of damp breath hitting his skin.

“hey, hyung,” sicheng says, not bothering to turn his head. his hand instinctively comes up to rub over his ear.

“dance with me,” yuta says. “come on, come on.”

jaehyun smiles unsympathetically at sicheng’s grimace when he’s pulled away.

he doesn’t see jaehyun a lot more that evening, but sicheng doesn’t think much about it. he’s busy talking to doyoung and kun, losing at baskin robbins (because even after six years in korea he’s still shit at counting in anything but mandarin, especially when half drunk) and ignoring yuta’s decreasingly subtle insinuations that if sicheng were to feel like making out with him, yuta would totally be up for that, _just as friends._

around one thirty people start heading off, and then doyoung pats sicheng on the shoulder. “we’re leaving now, you want a ride?”

“i don’t know,” sicheng says, looking around him. “where’s jaehyun?”

yuta shrugs. “i haven’t seen him in like an hour.”

he steps out to the porch, looking over the dark and empty garden. the dining room and front steps are unoccupied as well, so sicheng heads down the hallway towards the kitchen, humming absently to himself as he pushes through the door. 

and there he is. leaned back against the counter with the long-haired soprano pressed up against his front. her arms around his neck, his hands around her waist, their lips moving smoothly together.

sicheng freezes in the doorway, hand still on the handle, and it takes approximately one and a half second for jaehyun to notice him, startle and push her away.

“sicheng,” he says, like he’s catching his breath.

the girl blushes a little at the interruption. her hands are still on his arms, slim fingers with dark nail polish. 

“i’m sorry,” sicheng says quickly and closes the door again.

he walks on stiff legs back into the living room. his skin is still buzzing warm with alcohol, but the pit of his stomach has gone ice cold. 

“did you find him?” yuta asks. his arm curls around sicheng’s waist, like he doesn’t reflect over it at all, and sicheng lets it sit there.

“uh,” sicheng says. “yeah.”

“and?”

“he’s... staying a bit longer.”

“we’ll drop you off if you want,” hansol says. “it’s no problem.”

sicheng nods. “thanks.”


	5. Chapter 5

the next morning (though technically, it’s past noon), sicheng lies in bed. he’s been lying there for a while. he’s barely hung over, but he blames it anyway.

his thumb moves mechanically over his phone, refreshing his sns, scrolling down someone’s blog, watching silly clips, skimming through clickbaits and celebrity articles he doesn’t give a shit about. 

he opens instagram for the fourth time. 

youngho has posted pictures from last night. yuta with his arm around someone, tongue sticking out of his mouth in a way that he, at the time, probably thought sexy. doyoung and kun crowded around hansol, hands splayed as if presenting a rare artifact, hansol looking mostly uncomfortable. sicheng scrolls, grinning a little to himself, habitually clicking like, then halts, thumb frozen over the screen. 

a picture of jaehyun, in his new dark hair, a girl at his side. she’s pretty, her hair long. her hand rests, delicately, on his shoulder.

it’s not like it’s the first time jaehyun has fooled around with someone since the whole friends-with-benefits thing started. sicheng has been among the ones pressing a drink into jaehyun’s hand and then pushing him towards whatever girl or guy he’s been exchanging glances with during the evening. sicheng has wiped shimmering lipstick off his mouth (and around it), laughing. sicheng has high-fived, fistbumped, shoulder patted.

the annoying thing is that he didn’t even see it coming. it was right in front of him the whole time, high school romcom levels of predictable: boy invites girl he knows to a party. boy and girl spend all night talking to each other. boy and girl suck face in the kitchen.

did jaehyun? did he plan it? (was that why he wanted to do his hair?)

sicheng knows what he should do. he should send jaehyun a text; asking how lucky he got last night, innuendoes and congratulations, followed by a bunch of dumb emojis. because that’s what friends do.

sicheng drops the phone beside him, rolls over and pulls the sheet over his head.

 

 

it’s jaehyun who texts him, a couple of hours later. his phone beeps, but it’s still on the bed and sicheng’s in the middle of an overwatch game and can’t check it. he tries to focus on the match, but finds his eyes repeatedly drawn towards his left, just barely seeing the little blue dot blinking next to his pillow. eventually he fucks up and gets himself killed. he sighs, but pushes out of the desk chair and walks over to his bed.

_did you get home okay last night?_

sicheng looks at it for a couple of moments longer than necessary. then flings the phone onto his pillow and returns to his laptop.

 

 

monday, sicheng sits on a bench at the intersection between the science and arts buildings, regretting not staying in the air-conditioned library and maybe adding a couple more pages to the sad number he managed to get through today while waiting for doyoung to feel like showing up, when said doyoung comes jogging towards him, hair flying and bookbag bouncing on his hip.

“sorry,” he says, a little out of breath. “professor went over time again.”

sicheng squints up at him. “you owe me,” he says. “i want a coke. a cold one.”

doyoung snorts. “you’re loaded, i’m not buying you anything.”

they swiftly agree on a small place just outside campus, known for its good ventilation and cheap lunch deals.

“...but it would be really useful if i want to go to grad school. the course load isn’t bad but they say the exams are pretty tough. but i figure, as long as you keep up with the reading and don't fudge the assignments. and apparently you can partner up for those.” 

sicheng nods absently, adding a huh and a hum here and there, mostly concentrating on putting food in his mouth. he barely notices the sudden silence over the table.

“are you okay?” doyoung asks, studying him. “you look kinda… out of it.”

sicheng blinks up at him. “uh,” he says. “yeah. i dunno. just one of those days, i guess.”

“is something up?”

sicheng shrugs. “just didn’t sleep so well.”

the sharp suspicion in doyoung’s eyes doesn’t soften, but he returns to his meal.

after a couple of minutes sicheng’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he leans back in his chair to wiggle it out.

the text is from jaehyun. _what r u doing tonight?_

sicheng exits the window and jams the cell back into his pants.

“what was that?” doyoung asks.

sicheng bends over his bowl. “nothing.”

 

 

it’s past seven and sicheng has just come home from a run, showered and settled his ass in front of some inane tv-show that won’t require much mental energy when his doorbell rings. he sighs, drops the remote next to him and shuffles up to the door, leaning close to peek through the hole and - _of course._

jaehyun’s in his employee shirt, green and boxy with short sleeves, a casual but lopsided grin on his face. “hey,” he says. “you busy? or can in come in?”

sicheng shrugs vaguely and steps aside.

“just got from work,” jaehyun says, kicking his shoes off and dropping his backpack on the floor.

“huh,” sicheng says.

“you got anything to eat?” jaehyun continues and marches into the kitchen. “i’m starving.”

sicheng doesn’t reply, only heads back to the couch. he hears the fridge door closing, and then the cupboards being opened instead. the rustling of plastic, drawers, water running in the sink. then jaehyun comes out again, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“is your phone dead or something?” he asks, sinking down next to sicheng on the couch. “i’ve texted you like five times and you never replied.” he looks at sicheng, laughing a little.

sicheng shrugs again. “i was tired.”

jaehyun hums shortly. he turns towards the tv. “what are you watching?”

“i don’t know.”

“mind if i change it?”

“whatever.”

jaehyun grabs the remote, zaps around a bit. he settles on something loud and annoying that sicheng suspects will give him a headache. 

“turn it down,” he says, a little harsher than he intended.

jaehyun glances at him, pressing the volume key. soon he gets up again, coming back after a minute with a steaming paper cup. he waits for it to cook, but is too impatient to wait for it to cool, digging in and hissing around the hot noodles.

on another day, sicheng thinks in the back of his head, it would have made him giggle, and tease him. he would have badgered jaehyun for a bite, and jaehyun would have complained and told him to go make his own before letting him have some anyway.

today the slurping noises are just annoying. sicheng looks away.

jaehyun wipes the corners of his mouth with his hand. “are you pissed at me or something?”

“no,” sicheng grunts. 

“then what’s up with you.”

“nothing.”

“did something happen?”

“i said i’m tired.”

“are you getting sick?”

“no.”

jaehyun stays watching him for a moment, one eyebrow tilted up. then he returns to his cup, whisking the contents around with his chopsticks. sicheng leans forward and grabs his phone off the coffee table.

jaehyun loads a chunk into his mouth, chews and swallows. “is it because of the other night?”

sicheng feels something cold crack open inside of him. “what?”

“because you had to catch another ride home? you could have said something. i didn’t even know you wanted to leave.”

“it’s not that.”

“then what.”

“it’s nothing.”

they watch the show in silence. jaehyun finishes his noodles, then slumps back into the couch. “dude. just tell me if i did something wrong.”

“you didn’t,” sicheng says, and it’s true. he hates that he’s like this, when it’s true.

he fiddles with his cell, shifts between random apps and windows, refreshing and refreshing dead feeds. scrolls through a piece of text without seeing the words. feels jaehyun’s eyes on him.

“did you want her?”

sicheng looks up. “what?”

jaehyun’s head is tipped back over the edge of the couch, turned towards him. “if you were into her you could have said so.”

“and, what?” sicheng laughs, the sound short and unnatural. the cold thing has seeped out, slimy like a broken egg, coating the insides of his stomach. “you would have given her to me, taken the other one instead?”

jaehyun shrugs. he turns his gaze back to the tv.

sicheng stares at the phone in his hand, fingers not moving. “didn’t you even like her?”

“i mean, sure. she’s pretty, but. it just kinda happened.”

“it just happened?” sicheng repeats dully.

jaehyun twists towards him again, a wrinkle between his brows. “is this what you’re pissed about? that i kissed a girl?”

something rises inside sicheng, settles hard in his chest. “why the fuck would i be pissed about that?”

“i don’t know,” jaehyun says. he looks at sicheng; a steady, piercing stare. “you tell me.”

sicheng drops his phone on the table. “you know, if i had been into her, it would have been hard for me to tell you that since you were glued to her from the first minute and would barely talk to me.”

“what? we talked.”

“like, once.”

jaehyun throws his hands out. “wow. i’m sorry for not holding your hand the whole evening.”

sicheng glares at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

jaehyun sighs. “you’re not great with new people, sicheng,” he says. “you know it. so if you want me to wingman you or whatever… fine, just let me know. but you’re the one who ran off with doyoung or whoever.”

sicheng scoffs. “you’re the one always running off chasing the first piece of ass you see.”

jaehyun looks at him darkly. “i really don’t do that.”

sicheng knows he’s right, but he’s too deep in it to back out now. “really? aren’t you always looking for a quick fuck? some willing mouth to shove your tongue into?”

jaehyun frowns. “seriously?”

“doesn’t change the fact that you’ve only slept with, like, three people though.”

a red flush has started growing on jaehyun’s cheeks. “what’s this about? why do you care?”

“i’m just saying.” sicheng shrugs. “it didn’t _just happen._ ”

“so what?” jaehyun turns towards him in his seat, eyes hard and narrowed. “do you want me to ask you before i hook up with someone, is that it? do i need your _permission_?”

sicheng snorts, and it doesn’t sound shaky. “you’re so self-centered.”

“me?”

“you think i give a fuck what you do? you can make out with whoever you want.”

“it sure sounds like you give a fuck.”

“don’t worry, i don’t.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “you’re so immature,” he says, and sicheng hates it. hates it. (maybe because, maybe, it’s a bit true.)

he shoots to his feet, turning on jaehyun. “how am i being fucking immature?”

“you were never like this before,” jaehyun argues, voice rising a notch. “and suddenly you’re sulking like some fourteen year old girl. what happened?”

“maybe not everything is about you,” sicheng rants. “maybe i have my own shit to deal with.”

“then why are you giving me shit over what i do and don’t do.”

“don’t you mean _who_ you do and don’t do.”

jaehyun’s face sets, tight, in some kind of smirk. “are you jealous of me?” he laughs. “is that it? or--” he licks his lips. “were you jealous of her?”

sicheng’s chest heaves up, breaths thick and quickened. his head feels hot, blood pounding under his skin. “you think you’re fucking irresistible or something, don’t you? trust me, you’re not as hot as you think you are.”

he knows it's unfair, knows jaehyun is not like that. and he sees the sour twist on jaehyun’s face.

“is that so?”

“yeah.”

“how about you grow up.”

“how about you fuck off,” sicheng spits, the last two syllables heavy and hard in his mouth.

jaehyun stares at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. “fine,” he says then, and pushes himself off the couch. 

sicheng hears his front door fall shut, a little harder than usual. the noodle cup still stands on the coffee table, the light from the tv flashing over the room. sicheng sinks down into the couch again. tips his head back, squeezes his eyes shut.

 

 

it’s jaehyun who calls him first, the next evening, a good day and a half before sicheng would have finished gearing up to do it. 

he hears his ringtone through the apartment, heart immediately tapping faster in his chest. it’s the third time today; each he startled up with something caught in his throat, not sure if hoping or dreading. first it was his mom, and then yuta, and with the latter he didn’t manage to keep a good tone through the conversation.

he darts out into the hallway, crouching to dig through his bag, feeling something having come up to wring itself around his esophagus. gets his phone out and is met by jaehyun’s contact picture filling the screen.

he entertains the thought of letting it go to voicemail only for a second. then he quickly swipes his thumb to the right and presses the phone to his ear.

“hi,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound out of breath.

“hey,” comes jaehyun’s voice. the word is low-spoken, soft, soft enough to make something melt off sicheng’s shoulders, leaving them hanging slack from his neck. he sinks down to the floor, back against the wall.

“what’s up?” jaehyun asks. “are you home?”

“yeah,” sicheng says. “i’m not doing anything.”

“ah,” jaehyun says. 

there is a small pause, but it feels long. sicheng bites his lip, waiting. wondering if he should go first.

“so,” jaehyun says then. clears his throat a little. “i’m sorry about the other day.” his voice is direct, unwavering. “i don’t know what happened. i was a douche.”

sicheng feels a breath silently come out of him, chest caving a little. “yeah,” he says. “me too.”

jaehyun laughs, just shortly, but it pastes a faint grin over sicheng’s face. 

“that shit escalated pretty fast, huh.”

“mm.” 

“so,” jaehyun says again, voice going more formal. “just so we’re clear. it’s fine with me if you want to hook up with other people and stuff. i mean, we don’t have that kind of relationship. it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything.”

sicheng feels a numbness come over him, muscles simultaneously slack and stiff. “right,” he says automatically.

there’s silence for a moment. “unless… you want something else.”

“no,” sicheng says immediately. “no, i agree with you. i mean.” he licks his lips. “we just fuck sometimes. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“right,” jaehyun says, and his voice is matter-of-factly, completely neutral. sicheng can’t read anything from it. “good.”

sicheng feels an urge to put his the nail of his thumb in his mouth and gnaw on it. he resists.

“for the record,” jaehyun continues. “i didn’t sleep with her.” he exhales, like a silent laugh. “i mean. she had been drinking, and we were at youngho’s and everything. but yeah. just so you know.”

“okay,” sicheng says. he frowns to himself. “does it matter?”

there is a pause, a small brushing sound, like from a shrug. “i thought it might.”

sicheng rubs the pad of his middle finger over the tip of his thumb and doesn’t ask whether jaehyun would have slept with her otherwise, if the circumstances were right. if he wants to do it. if he plans to.

then jaehyun speaks again. “so,” he says, and for the first time sounds hesitant. “have you?”

“have what?”

“well. slept with other people.”

“why--” sicheng starts, and cuts himself off. “that’s none of your business.” he laughs a little to keep the tone light, but finds a stiffness over his jaw.

“i know, i know,” jaehyun says quickly. “i was just thinking. if we do. sleep around and stuff. we’ll use protection, right? i know, when it’s just you and me we don’t really...” he trails off. “but-uh.”

sicheng frowns. “are you lecturing me on condoms?”

jaehyun laughs. “i’m not. i just…” he stops. “like, we can be honest with each other, right?”

sicheng bites his lip. “yeah.”

“cool.”

sicheng looks up, tips his head back against the wall. “well, for the record. i haven’t slept with anyone else in a while.”

“okay,” jaehyun says. “cool.”

the line is silent for a bit. sicheng sits still, listening to jaehyun’s calm breaths.

"you're my best friend," jaehyun’s voice says then. "you know that, right?"

sicheng closes his eyes. “yeah.”

"i don't want things to get weird between us."

"mm."

“so… are we cool?”

“sure.”

another pause, and sicheng could bet that jaehyun is smiling, would be willing to wager the exact look of it, drawn in minute detail before his inner view.

“later, then.”

“yeah.”

“bye.”

sicheng hangs up and puts the phone down beside him on the floor. stays like that for a minute, head against the wall, eyes resting on the bland white paint of the hallway.

 

 

that night, sicheng lies awake. he’s on his side, feet sticking out from under the sheet because it’s warm, phone resting in his palm.

thumb slow, he opens his messages, taps jaehyun’s icon. there’s the row of five or six texts on the left side, uninterrupted. above that, exchanges from before the weekend. he slides his thumb down. _what r u doing_ and _be there in five_ and _lol_ s and goodnights.

sicheng flicks back down to the bottom. brings up his other hand and types, fingers quick and deft; _while we’re being honest_

pauses, looking at it. then, swiftly, hits send.

 _i made out with yuta,_ he continues, this time tapping the send button right away.

it’s past one and jaehyun is probably working tomorrow so he’s not expecting much, but the reply comes quickly.

_rly?_

and then, _when?_

sicheng briefly scans through his memory, looking for a date or a period that might not be safe. something that would end up poking holes in his shameless lie.

 _a couple of weeks ago,_ he writes. vague enough.

_before u went to wenzhou?_

“uh,” sicheng thinks to himself. _yeah_

for a minute or two there is nothing, and sicheng feels his pulse speeding up a tad, tapping through the veins of his neck.

 _lol,_ jaehyun sends then. _was he good?_


	6. Chapter 6

yuta opens his door in messy hair and a loose, low-cut tank showing one of his nipples. 

“morning,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with a bleary grin.

“hyung,” sicheng says, frowning, but not feeling bad because he texted - and got a reply - half an hour ago. “did you just get up? it’s past noon.”

“and?” yuta asks pleasantly. “you're not really a morning person yourself.”

sicheng ignores that. “i’m not gonna find any naked people in your bed, right?” he says, slipping past yuta and toeing off his shoes. “i would really appreciate a heads-up in that case.”

“relax.” yuta closes the door behind him, eyes rolling a little. “i promise to evacuate all night guests before you enter the premises.”

sicheng heads into the living room and dumps his backpack on the couch.

“you want coffee?” yuta asks, yawning as he moves towards the kitchen.

“sure,” sicheng says. he looks around before following. “is your flatmate home?”

“nah, he should be at work.”

sicheng leans against the counter, watching yuta plug in the filled kettle and take two cups from the dish stand, distantly aware of the fingertip caught between his teeth. might as well get down to business.

“listen,” he says. “i need a favor.”

“uh-huh?” yuta hums, glancing up at him while digging for some spoons. “what’s up?”

“uh,” sicheng says. “i kind of told jaehyun a thing that… isn’t true. and, you know, if he were to ask you about it…”

yuta’s eyebrows cock up over his forehead. “you want me to cover for you?”

sicheng nods.

yuta brushes off his hands and turns towards sicheng with slightly too unabashed amusement on his face. “what did you say?”

“uh,” sicheng says again. he stifles a grimace. “i told him that you and i made out once.”

yuta tips his head back and laughs. “sicheng, dear sicheng,” he says, sliding closer. “if you want me to sell a story like that i need some hands-on research. it’ll have to be believable, right?” his hand starts snaking up towards sicheng’s neck, but sicheng slaps it away.

“hyung,” he growls. 

“right, right.” yuta turns away, smirk immediately dropping off his face. he rummages through the cupboard for the jar of instant coffee. “why did you tell him that, though?”

“yeah.” sicheng scratches his head. “that’s a good question.”

yuta sends him a long, scanning look. “what’s going on with you two?”

also a good question. sicheng shrugs vaguely. “we had a fight.” 

“about what?”

sicheng fidgets. “saturday, at youngho’s…” he mumbles, trailing off.

yuta fills in for him. “that chick he kept hanging with?”

sicheng nods.

yuta stirs powder into the steaming mugs. “did he fuck her?”

sicheng shakes his head. “no.” he pauses, thinking for a moment. “at least he said he didn’t.”

“well, so what?” yuta asks. he hands sicheng one of the cups and passes him, walking back out into the small living room. “that’s your deal, isn’t it? fooling around?”

“yeah,” sicheng says flatly. he trails after yuta, flopping down at the other end of the couch.

yuta crosses his legs under himself and peers at him. “or? have you changed your mind about it?”

sicheng shrugs again, but it’s stiffer now. “jaehyun hasn’t. he’s happy the way things are.”

“and what about you?”

sicheng looks down, fingers light on the hot porcelain. “i don’t know,” he says, and that might be the truest thing he’s said all week. he blows on the surface before taking a careful sip. it’s bitter and watery, running warm into his stomach.

“he said…” sicheng continues. “he wants us to be _honest_ with each other.” he sinks down, tipping his head back against the backrest. “but like. how are you supposed to be honest if you don’t even know what you want.”

how are you supposed to be honest when you’re not supposed to _make things weird between us._

yuta sniffs. “well, for starters, maybe don’t go making up some story just to get back at him.” he looks at sicheng pointedly. “and now you’ve pulled me into your web of lies.”

sicheng winces. “hyung,” he says, voice just this side of whiny. he’s not above breaking out the pout and the puppy eyes if necessary. 

yuta rolls his eyes again, but not without affection. “i’ll play along if he brings it up,” he says. “i hope you didn’t give him too much details. i work best with some creative freedom.”

sicheng feels a knot inside of him loosen a little. he trusts yuta, despite all. and yuta’s a good liar, though he rarely sees any reason to not be truthful.

yuta nurses his coffee, eyes still focused on sicheng over his cup. “maybe you should figure out what you want, though,” he says. “nothing wrong with fucking around but if it’s not fun anymore, there’s no point in it. right?”

sicheng keeps his eyes down, thumb scraping over the ear of the mug in his lap. “anyway,” he says finally. “have you seen the new boku no hero episodes?”

 

 

 _u have dance practice tonight right?_ jaehyun messages him on thursday. they haven’t talked since the phone call, only texted a little and played some king of glory.

 _yeah,_ sicheng sends back.

_can i come over afterwards?_

sicheng frowns at the sentence for a minute, not sure if he’s reading too much into the tone. _sure,_ he replies.

he gets home after nine and heads straight for the bathroom for a quick shower. turns out he didn’t have to hurry, tough; sicheng has time to both dry off, down a protein shake and start stretching before the doorbell rings, and he isn’t sure if jaehyun is making a point to give him space or if he just forgot the time playing LOL.

jaehyun has his hands in the pockets of his shorts, head turning up when sicheng opens.

“hi,” he says, a soft smile unfolding on his face, producing a shallow dimple, and it makes a small sting pass through sicheng’s stomach.

he suddenly wishes he had put on a shirt before answering the door, his naked chest shrinking a little into itself. his hand shoots up to scratch over his arm, the other hooking loosely around his waist in a way that probably doesn’t look natural.

“uh,” he says, stepping aside, “come in,” scrunching his nose behind jaehyun’s back at how stupid and stilted that sounded.

“have you had dinner?”

“yeah, i ate earlier.”

jaehyun wander aimlessly into the living room and sicheng sneaks past him over to his wardrobes to fetch a tank top. he pulls it down to his hips and then turns back, stopping when finding jaehyun’s quiet eyes watching him over the space of the room.

for a moment coldness clenches sicheng’s insides, half expecting jaehyun to look away and say _listen,_ and then _i talked to yuta_ or _i think we should_ or _why the fuck did you lie to me_ or something hard, eyes narrowed, something that will start it all over again.

“you got any beer or something?” jaehyun says.

sicheng blinks. “yeah. in the fridge.”

jaehyun disappears into the kitchen, and sicheng takes a breath.

he gets back down on the thick rug in front of the couch, crossing his legs and tipping his head to the side, feeling the tendons strain down his neck. the coffee table is moved to the side, tv on mute, but sicheng isn’t really watching. jaehyun passes behind him and sinks down on the couch, sipping from his can. 

when he’s done with his upper body sicheng stretches his legs out and leans forward. he manages to hook his hands around his feet, but the usually simple effort makes him grimace. he eases up, bends his knees a little and tenderly fingers over the back of his thigh. his hamstrings felt a bit stiff during practice, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. 

he shifts around, lies back against the carpet and brings his foot up on his knee, hooking his hands around it and pulling his leg towards his stomach.

“does it hurt?” jaehyun asks, watching him.

“a bit,” sicheng grunts. “might be from running the other day.”

“huh,” jaehyun says. “you think you pulled something?”

sicheng shakes his head. “probably nothing serious. just muscle fever or something.”

despite the muscle straining, sicheng tries to pull his leg closer down, but it only makes him grimace again. he lets go with a sigh.

“want me to massage it?” jaehyun asks, getting up and putting his can on the coffee table. “might help.”

sicheng drops his legs and sits up, watching jaehyun get down on his knees in front of him. “have you done this before?”

“nope.” jaehyun grins. “lie back down.”

sicheng does as he’s told, head dropping back against the rug. jaehyun inches closer between his legs, taking one of sicheng’s knees and resting the back of it over his own folded leg. then he cups his hands around sicheng’s thigh, carefully pressing his fingers up into the muscle on the underside.

“here?”

“a bit higher.”

jaehyun moves up an inch or two, starting to softly knead the flesh.

“does it hurt?”

sicheng realizes he might have been making a face. “just a little.”

jaehyun nods, lightens the pressure a bit. “let me know if you want it harder.”

sicheng can’t stop a short cackle at the accidental innuendo. jaehyun grins down at him, but only keeps his fingers working, making gentle circles through the skin.

the whole muscle is sore, the pressure just firm enough to send tiny spikes of pain up into his nerves, but at the same time it feels good. sicheng closes his eyes, shoulders dropping down against the floor. he can feel the area warming up, tendering. it’ll probably still hurt a bit afterwards, but at least it won’t be stiff.

he lies still for a couple of minutes, feeling his breathing slow and his mind drift off to a kind of pleasant emptiness, then notices the familiar sensation of blood starting to relocate, a vague tingle fluttering through his crotch.

his eyes crack open. _no. not now, not like this. come on._

he presses his lips together and tries not to think about it, tries to just focus on the very innocent activity. a massage, that’s all. nevermind jaehyun between his spread legs, jaehyun’s warm palm splayed over his inner thigh, a couple of inches from his groin.

it’s been a week since they last fucked, maybe he could blame that. (his mind automatically sails back to it, _jaehyun naked beneath him,_ and it’s not helping.) if he had rubbed one out in the shower earlier, if he had known he had time, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. it’s not like he hasn’t popped a number of random boners through his life, but he can’t deny what this comes down to; how little it takes, how easily jaehyun affects him.

jaehyun shifts and moves over to the other leg. untouched, the nerves are alert and sensitive. sicheng huffs quietly, brows furrowing, trying to will the blood away from his dick through sheer mind power. of course, it rather has the opposite effect. he silently curses the fact that he couldn’t be arsed to put on underwear after showering, and how unforgiving basketball shorts are.

he stares up into the ceiling, waiting for jaehyun to inevitably notice, and then comes a low chuckle.

“i take it i’m good at this.”

“shut up,” sicheng snorts. his hands come up, rubbing over his eyes. “i’m sorry, it’s not… i just…”

“dude, relax.” jaehyun chuckles again. “it happens. no big deal.”

he sticks to the massage for another minute, then his hands soften and slide up, to the front of sicheng’s thigh. the right one strokes casually back and forth for a moment, then travels upwards, past sicheng’s hip. 

jaehyun leans over him and sicheng feels fingers inch up under his tank, leaving a strip of skin bare. lips brush over a spot by his hipbone, leaving little pimples of gooseflesh. the hand leisurely travels on, fingers brushing over ribs, pushing the fabric higher. jaehyun’s warm breath tickles over his stomach. he dips again, presses a featherlight kiss next to sicheng’s navel. sicheng feels his abs contract in an instinctive twitch.

“this isn’t helping,” he remarks distantly.

“it’s not?” jaehyun mumbles innocently, moving to the other side. he runs his lips over the side of sicheng’s belly, parting them a little, letting the damp inside catch on the skin. sicheng’s mouth opens in a silent _ah._

he’s getting hard for real now, the fabric of his pants brushing over the sensitized head every time he shifts under jaehyun’s hands. jaehyun sits back against his heels, draws his fingers over the little tent experimentally, and grins when it makes sicheng inhale sharply.

he removes his hands then, looking down at sicheng with a smile that seems both eager and careful. “can i suck you off?”

sicheng lets his head drop back against the floor, biting back a grin. nods.

jaehyun shifts back a bit. he inches the shorts down sicheng’s hips, just enough, circles him with gentle fingers and jerks him fully stiff before taking him into his mouth.

sicheng isn’t quite like this, usually - coming apart so quickly. back twisting, arching off the floor, toes curling into the pile, fingertips raking through jaehyun’s hair, a steady stream of hitching, needy moans. his chest feels filled, like pumped to the brim. there is a tug in his stomach that is not impending climax; some kind of deep-set want, bringing a vague urge to hold, to clench.

he doesn’t stop to analyze it. jaehyun plays it safe, sticks to what he knows works best, and sicheng soaks in the familiarity, lets there be just jaehyun, just jaehyun’s mouth, just jaehyun’s hands.

he feels rather than hears jaehyun make a noise around him, a low, humming groan, and looks down just in time to find jaehyun palming himself through his pants. 

“fuck,” he breathes, slumping back, but keeps the image in his head, lopping before his inner view.

when his hips start bucking jaehyun sits back, wiping his mouth with the back of his left hand, fisting him loosely with the other. sicheng reaches up, fumbling for him, and jaehyun leans forward, letting sicheng hook a hand over his neck pull him down. it’s not very elegant, the angle awkward and their noses bumping, but jaehyun’s tongue comes in his mouth and that feels like all that matters.

“you close?” jaehyun murmurs, just above him.

sicheng nods.

“you wanna come in my mouth?”

sicheng shakes his head in small, short jerks. “no,” he says, “no, stay.” he curls his arm around jaehyun’s neck, artlessly puts their mouths together again.

jaehyun stays leaned over him on his arm, right hand keeping a steady pace. stays close, pressing kisses to sicheng’s lips even as they go limp, gasping. stays, calmly running his nose over sicheng’s cheek till he has worked him through it, hand slowing, softening.

sicheng just notices him shaking a little before he pushes himself upright again, looking around and then reaching for an old napkin lying on the coffee table. sicheng props himself up on his elbows, watching jaehyun unfold it and look it over, apparently deeming it clean enough, wiping off his hands before leaning over sicheng’s stomach. the paper is scratchy on his skin.

sicheng pulls his shorts up and the tank down before pushing himself up. jaehyun’s still on his knees, napkin crumpled in his fist, eyes following him. sicheng sees his chest heaving, just a little, sees the lumpy shape sticking out at the front of his pants.

sicheng closes in on him, leaning up over him, turning his face up to kiss him. jaehyun groans against him, and sicheng’s fingers find the button of his fly.

 

 

sicheng’s hunched forward with his chin in his hand, foot bouncing under the table, not really listening to yiyang listing the common differences between verb-object and object-verb languages. the small study room feels stuffy even with the steady, dry breeze of air-conditioning running through it. his eyes dart up towards the clock on the wall for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. 

“this is the part i don’t get,” says junhui, leaning forward and tapping his finger on the page of yiyang’s textbook.

“it’s right there,” minghao says. “the whole relative clause…”

sicheng looks down and makes an attempt to focus on the text, but soon finds his eyes sail out the window instead, resting blankly there for a minute before slipping back to the clock. the sweep hand taps restlessly around the circle. 

“so basically,” junhui says, scratching his head. “um. the morphological typology…”

two forty-five. sicheng shoots to his feet, chair scraping back over the floor, suddenly enough to make the other three startle.

“i gotta go,” he says, raking his books and papers together.

junhui frowns up at him. “where are you going?”

sicheng gestures vaguely. “i just gotta go.”

“we said we were gonna go through the next chapter too,” yiyang says.

“uh,” sicheng says, stuffing his things into his bag. “you think you can handle it without me?”

minghao rolls his eyes. “i guess we’ll manage.”

“cool. bye,” sicheng says and pushes through the door. 

he opts for the stairs, feet drumming down the steps, and is out on the campus yard and over by his bike in a couple of minutes. digs for his keys, gets the lock off, swings his leg over the frame and then he’s out the gates, flying through the streets of the city.

he screeches to a halt outside a small grocery store, panting, putting his foot on the middle bar of the railing separating the sidewalk from the road to stay upright. a display of flowers is set up by the entrance, posters in the large windows advertising discounted chicken and summer vegetables. 

sicheng pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time again. he wipes some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. peeks through the automatic glass doors, then looks towards the alley leading to the back of the building. he whips his head back at the shuffling sound of the doors sliding open, but it’s just a couple of kids coming out, chatting while unwrapping bright red popsicles.

minutes pass and sicheng stars to wonder if he missed him when he spots a familiar figure emerging from inside. something rises in sicheng’s stomach, like the moment just before the drop on a kids’ roller coaster. the doors swish open and jaehyun steps out in his ugly green employee shirt, bag slung over one shoulder, a confused grin on his face.

“hey,” he says, crossing over to him. “what are you doing here?”

sicheng shrugs casually. “just passing by.” right then a drop of sweat runs down his neck, as if to betray him. he quickly dabs it away with his shoulder. “are you going home?”

jaehyun nods. “i guess i’ll walk. it was raining this morning and mom needed the car so she dropped me off.”

“i know,” sicheng says. “i saw your whiny tweets.”

jaehyun makes a grumpy face at him. “they weren’t whiny.”

sicheng laughs. “you want a ride?”

jaehyun’s eyebrows inch up over his forehead. “on that?” he asks, nodding towards sicheng’s bike.

“yeah.”

jaehyun’s grin widens. “okay.”

they switch luggage, jaehyun pulling sicheng’s heavy backpack over his shoulders and sicheng hanging jaehyun’s half-empty one over the handlebar. then jaehyun straddles the rear rack and sicheng pushes off.

the ride is slower now, despite the less busy streets. sicheng soon starts sweating again, thighs protesting when driving them up a slope.

“you doing okay?” jaehyun asks conversationally.

“yeah,” sicheng pants. “sure.” 

they get off and walk the last bit up the crest.

“how are your hamstrings?” jaehyun asks.

“better,” sicheng says, and sees jaehyun smile to himself.

they roll easily downhill, sicheng’s foot light on the break, the wind running through his hair and drying his damp skin.

it’s a friday afternoon in late july; the sun shining, the air warm but not too hot, chunks of cotton white clouds lazing over the clear blue sky, and it’s one of those objectively spectacular days, the kind where there is beauty in every glittering pebble and every blade of grass, the kind leaving you drunk and wild on the sheer force of life, the kind where anything seems possible and the world is at its best.

jaehyun laughs behind him when they wobble dangerously slaloming between pedestrians and turning corners, hands warm on sicheng’s waist, foot skidding over the ground sometimes, ready to steady them if necessary, and sicheng laughs too, even though he doesn’t really have the breath for it.

yuta was wrong. sicheng doesn’t need to figure anything out, none of that stuff matters. they’re back to normal, jaehyun is still with him, things didn’t get weird between them. as long as it can be like this, sicheng doesn’t care about the rest.

“can we stop by my place?” jaehyun says when they reach their neighborhood. “i wanna change.”

sicheng slows to a stop a couple of houses from jaehyun’s, and jaehyun smoothly slips off. “come with me,” he says. “i don’t think my parents are home, anyway.”

sicheng walks the bike after jaehyun and parks it along the wall.

“i’m home,” jaehyun shouts when he gets inside the door. “mom?”

no reply. the house sits quiet and empty. jaehyun kicks off his shoes and shoots sicheng a grin. “i’ll be right back,” he says and disappears up the stairs. 

sicheng sneaks into the kitchen for some paper towels, fanning the neck of his t-shirt over his chest. then he wanders into the living room, glancing at the furniture and paintings he has seen a hundred times before. sheer white curtains hang over the large windows facing the back. sicheng fiddles the veranda door open and steps out.

the garden smells of warmth and greenery, a bumblebee drifting around over the bushes, the grass glowing in the sunlight. sicheng sits down on the steps, closing his eyes and feeling the rays on his skin, until he hears feet coming through the room behind him.

jaehyun comes out in a tank top and with a dewy soda can in his hand. he takes a swig, then sinks down to sicheng and offers him the can.

sicheng takes it. “thanks,” he says, putting the rim to his lips for a sip.

“no problem,” jaehyun says. he pokes his elbow into sicheng’s side. “and thanks for the ride home,” he adds, chuckles playing in his voice.

sicheng swallows and grins. “yeah. what would you do without me.”

jaehyun looks out over the garden, squinting against the sun. “yeah, what would i do without you,” he says, but now the joking tone is gone. he sighs, like to himself, and then leans his head against sicheng’s shoulder.

“you know, it’s weird...” he continues after a moment, voice low and absentminded. “that you’re here? i mean. you could have been in china right now, or new zealand, or anywhere, living your life, and maybe we would never even have met.” he pauses. “but you’re here.”

sicheng looks down, elbows resting on his thighs. he feels jaehyun turning his head, leaning his face against sicheng’s shoulder blade, can feel his lips move through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“i’ve never told you, have i? i feel so lucky that you’re in my life. that you’re my friend.” jaehyun’s voice drops, words a bit muffled. “i love you, dude.”

sicheng stares blindly at a spot in the grass, fingers clamped around the cool can.

there’s a moment or two of silence, then jaehyun snorts and pulls away. “i’m sorry,” he says, laughing awkwardly. “that was embarrassing.” he flicks some hair out of his face and leans back on his hands. “so. what do you wanna do tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~
> 
> hey just wanted to say thanks for all the comments and support i've received on this fic!! since you can only kudos a work once, comments are extra appreciated on chaptered fics because it's pm the writer's only way of knowing that someone is reading and caring about their story. it means a lot to me so tysm ;;;
> 
> also thanks to caesureas for answering my stupid questions and being super supportive :')


	7. Chapter 7

the scene is vague, void of details, fuzzy around the edges. floor? a rug? a lawn. grass, but unnaturally soft, cool and silky. a garden probably. enclosed, but not sure by what. fresh air, sunshine.

it starts in the middle of things, the way dreams do - or it started earlier, but he doesn’t remember it. discarded by his memory as it played, like an unrecorded stream. no segue from another scenario, no explanation as to how he got there and why. it just is, and makes perfect sense.

he’s lying on his stomach, arms crossed under his head, eyes just half open. fingers drag over his back, light and smooth, tracing slow patterns; circles, spirals and eights. maybe he has no shirt on, maybe the fabric is just very thin. he can feel the difference between upward and downward strokes; sharp fingernails, supple fingertips.

he can’t see who it is but he knows that it’s jaehyun, feels his presence in the air and on his body, in his body, as clear and physical as the rays of the sun, the velvety blades of grass beneath him.

a hand presses softly against his shoulder blade. he can feel the silhouette, the distinct shape of palm and five splayed fingers, lit up as if branded into him with red hot iron, except it doesn’t hurt. 

it moves, hooking over his shoulder, a thumb pressing into the muscle, rubbing gently. then fingers slip up the back of his neck, running through his hair, sending small waves of chills down his back.

there is a calm within him, warm and noodly like a kitten stretched out on a sunny windowsill. he breathes in and rolls over, finding jaehyun smiling above him.

“did you fall asleep?” he says, or something like it. his lips move but it doesn’t match the line, like he’s been dubbed with a filtered voice-over in a language sicheng doesn’t know, but still somehow understands. his thumb runs over the rim of sicheng’s ear, the sound like a wave rolling up a shore.

“no,” sicheng mumbles, and jaehyun grins in the sunlight, shine catching in his hair.

then sicheng wakes up, alone in his bed.

 

 

it’s just after noon when jaehyun smoothly rolls them into an empty slot, killing the radio mid-sentence when he pulls the key out of the ignition. in front of the hood, a row of boulders separates the parking lot from a patch of bushes and pine trees. sicheng waits for doyoung to get out behind him before carefully pushing the passenger door open and snaking himself out in the narrow space between the cars.

yuta huffs and flicks his head back, lifting his bangs out of his face with his pinky. “why don’t you get a car with AC.”

jaehyun makes a stank face at him, reaching to open the trunk. “you’re free to walk home, you know.”

the sun is beating down on the bleached tarmac, but it’s still a relief to get out of the warm car. there is a freshness, a perky breeze in the air. sicheng can feel it already. he lifts his hands up and stretches, arms straight, legs stiff after the hour cooped up in the front seat, feeling the blood starting to move through his system again. 

he spots jaehyun glancing at him, grinning, and quickly drops his arms in front of his waist before jaehyun can reach out and poke it. but jaehyun just cocks his brows innocently and hands sicheng his bag.

they cross the parking lot and head down the little road marked by a sign with a figure half-submerged in waves. after a couple of minutes sicheng can spot slivers of glittery blue between the trees. then the road turns sandy, and slopes down to the beach stretching out in a curve along the bay.

it’s one of jaehyun’s favorites, one that his parents used to take him to when he was a kid. it’s pretty small, tucked in just outside a seaside village, but not very crowded, even on a sunday. a gust of sea wind comes towards them, smelling of salt, brushing over sicheng’s damp skin. he can hear the soft waves stroking the shoreline, mixed with the chatter of voices. here and there a shout, a high-pitched, excited shriek. a couple of kids run by them, laughing, ice-cream money clenched in their hands.

sicheng stops to take off his shoes, stuffing his socks down and hooking his fingers under the heel caps, then jogs to catch up with the others through the coarse, grey sand. yuta chuckles and throws an arm around his neck, telling him to keep up.

they pick an empty spot and spread out the couple of old blankets they brought. sicheng digs his stuff out of his bag, wrapping his towel around his hips before starting to wiggle his pants off underneath.

yuta promptly strips and changes, done in five sec, and doyoung nags him about decency, _there’s grannies around, and kids,_ and yuta looks righteously at him and says that there’s nothing obscene about the naked body, it’s all natural, plus those grannies have probably seen plenty during the course of their lives anyway.

jaehyun laughs at that, wobbling on one foot trying to step into his trunks. he manages to pull them up, wiggling his hips, then drops his towel. sicheng watches him hunch down by his bag, rummaging around before producing a tube of sunscreen. he stands back up and squeezes a generous blob into his hand, starting to rub it over his arms. he burns easily, blossoms bright red if he’s not careful.

sicheng pulls his shirt over his head and then reaches his hand out, palm up, until jaehyun grins and pours him some as well. he puts his hands together and distributes the cream over his upper body, then lifts his bangs with the back of his left hand and rubs over his forehead and cheeks.

jaehyun’s struggling, pushing his elbow back, trying to reach below his shoulder blade. 

sicheng giggles, stepping up to him. “you need a hand?”

“ah,” jaehyun says. “thanks.” he gives sicheng a refill, then stands still and lets sicheng smear it over his back. 

sicheng splays his hand flat, starts rubbing light circles; from his shoulder, down the side of his waist, to the band of the swim trunks sitting on the slight curve of his hip. across the spine; a ridge at the top, dropping to a valley below the ribcage. up again on the other side.

he studies the little freckles and birthmarks he knows by heart, not used to seeing them like this, in daylight. notes distantly how the muscles contour through the skin, and the places where it’s thicker, softer. he brings up his other hand too, sticky, drags them slowly over jaehyun’s back, watching the layer of white gradually sink in and disappear. he only realizes that he spaced out a little when jaehyun apparently deems himself covered enough and turns around.

he circles his finger in the air. “spin around. i’ll do you too.”

sicheng flips around in his spot, feeling a faint heat at the top of his cheeks that he can’t blame on the sun. he forces himself not to startle when jaehyun’s hand comes on him. the cream is cool, but the palm warm.

they wade out between the kids building sandcastles and splashing in the shallows. the first wave against sicheng’s shins feels cold, but when he reaches hip-depth his legs are used to it. doyoung stands 10 meters closer to shore, shoulders pulled up, arms curled around himself, a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“come on,” yuta calls, laughing. “you big chicken.”

“you haven’t done it either,” doyoung spits back.

“i’m gonna.”

“well, do it then.”

“together?”

“no.”

sicheng turns and tunes them out. he skims his hands over the surface, feeling the silkiness of the water running over his fingers. he sucks in a breath before diving, adrenaline flashing through his body as the water envelops his sun-warm skin. takes two strokes, then pushes his hands against the sandy bottom and breaks into the air again. he brushes away the hair slicked down his face and finds that his body has already adjusted. the breeze breaks goosebumps on his arms, the water luke-warm and inviting, urging him down again.

jaehyun is hunched down, nose hovering above the surface like a crocodile. he glides slow through the water, half crawling and half swimming, approaching in doyoung’s direction. yuta starts humming the jaws theme.

doyoung stumbles back, hands out, sputtering. “if you splash on me _i swear to god--_ ”

after he has finally dunked doyoung spends approximately one minute under before standing up and declaring that he’s good for now and will be getting up. yuta joins him and the two head back up to the beach.

jaehyun taps sicheng’s shoulder. “come,” he says and turns, gliding out in a long stroke. 

they go further out, beyond the tweens playing king of the hill on a neon pool mattress and the elderly swimmers making rounds along the shore. when sicheng searches for footing the water reaches to his shoulders. he pulls his knees up, arms flapping to stay afloat.

jaehyun laughs and reaches for sicheng’s knee to push him off-balance. sicheng makes an offended noise and worms away from him, managing to push off with his foot against jaehyun’s stomach to shoot back and put some distance between them.

jaehyun’s eyes flash and he dives after him, hands pawing over sicheng’s legs in the water, cold and slippery. sicheng squeaks and flips around, falling into a splashy crawl. he quickly takes a couple of lengths, then slows down and lets jaehyun catch up with him. an arm winds around his waist, pulling him around, jaehyun’s breathy laughter at the back of his neck. sicheng giggles as he wrestles him off, then splashes him once for good measure.

“dude,” jaehyun chuckles, pulling back. he wipes his face with his hands, skin glistening. the sun is right behind him, spreading diamond streaks over the surface. 

sicheng laughs again but it kind of gets stuck in his throat. he flaps himself backwards, then takes a breath and goes down. the water is clear but it’s still blurry underneath, tinted with a greenish filter deepening in the distance. the salt stings in his eyes, but he blinks it away. pebbles and tufts of silky seaweed, like mermaids’ hair, litter the rough sand. rays of sun cut diagonally through the surface, playing calmly around jaehyun’s ghostly legs. 

sicheng kicks closer, reaching out to tug softly at the hem of jaehyun’s trunks. hands immediately shoot down to protectively grab onto the fabric. he comes up in a spray of water, half gasp and half snort, when jaehyun shoves at him.

they swim around for a minute, diving and floating.

“you wanna swim out?” jaehyun says and nods towards the little island sitting further out in the bay, barely more than a chunk of rock with some bushes and low trees on it. 

sicheng squints, but it’s hard to gauge the distance. “have you done it before?”

jaehyun nods. “it’s not that far.”

they take a breather and then take off, jaehyun half a length behind on sicheng’s left. sicheng sets a comfortable pace, slow but steady. he’s breathing pretty hard by the time the cliffs approach them, but he’s still got some juice in his arms. he lets his feet sink, feeling around for solid ground, but only finds something soft and slimy. he levels up again, takes a few more strokes.

they crawl up on the slippery rocks, panting and laughing. once on dry land jaehun stretches up, shaking water out of his hair before pushing it back with his fingers. sicheng squeezes out the hems of his dripping trunks. his arms feel heavy, a faint burning in the muscles. he shakes his hands to get the blood going.

“you okay?” jaehyun asks.

sicheng nods.

“think you’re gonna make it back?”

“yes,” sicheng says and boxes him on the shoulder.

they follow the edge of the islet, jumping on boulders and rocks, coming around to the other side where the ocean spreads out uninterrupted between the tongues of land, just a line of horizon separating the shades of blue.

they take a seat on a smooth slope of cliff, the warm sun quickly starting to dry them. it’s almost quiet out here, the voices and sounds from the beach out of earshot. there’s just the constant whispers of the wind and the waves washing up, one after one, stretching crystal clear over the rock before pulling back again, making way for the next one. 

sicheng glances at jaehyun from the corner of his eye, his profile cut against the sky. some strands of hair hang over his ears, dark and dripping. beads of water glitter on his skin, a bit oily and resistant from the sunscreen. he watches the scenery with a small smile that makes sicheng’s stomach ache in a weird way.

“it was a good day to come here,” jaehyun says. 

sicheng looks down quickly. “yeah.” he wiggles his toes against the rock, leaving wet prints on the grey surface. his leg hair is slicked down his shins in dark tendrils. he glances over at jaehyun’s legs, stretched out next to his, and can’t help snorting. jaehyun’s always been lacking in the body hair department, the strands on his shins pale and scarce, looking even more pitiful when drenched.

“what?” jaehyun asks.

“nothing,” sicheng says. he reaches out to tug at a wet little tuft. “just forgot how cute your leg hair is.”

jaehyun leans forward. “what, like you have that much more.” he runs his fingers over the side of sicheng’s calf.

“more than you, at least.”

“you’re one to talk. you barely have to shave.”

“hey,” sicheng protests, shoving at jaehyun’s shoulder. “i shave.”

“like, every two weeks? just around the mouth?” he motions at his chin, grinning obnoxiously.

“but i do it,” sicheng says, wondering why jaehyun has to know him so damn well.

jaehyun chuckles, reaching up to brush the back of his fingers over sicheng’s jaw. “it’s okay. i like your smooth baby cheeks.”

sicheng growls, ducking away. he twists around, pushes jaehyun back and sits on top. jaehyun doesn’t protest, only stretches out on the rock and tucks his arm under his head, squinting up at sicheng with that annoying grin on his face.

sicheng feels the stretch of his own smile weaken. the cliff is hard against his knees, jaehyun’s stomach soft beneath him. he doesn’t look at the spread of jaehyun’s chest, the pale inside of his arm stretching up from his armpit. 

the beach is far away, and they’re hidden by the bushes. sicheng feels a string of pulse beats squeeze through his neck. his lips tense, tingle, silently urging him to lean down and press them against jaehyun’s. he digs his teeth into the lower one to shut them up.

he gets off and pushes to his feet. “maybe we should head back,” he says. “they might be looking for us.”

jaehyun sits up slowly. “okay.”

 

 

sicheng unplugs his laptop sitting on the desk and carries it over to the couch, sinking down into the cushions. he leans his head back as he runs his finger over the touchpad, scrolling through his bookmarks. opens a site, clicks around. 

a thumbnail looks familiar; a woman, a room with blue walls. he has seen her before; scrunches his face in trying to remember. yeah, he liked her. she was hot. he puts on his earphones and taps his pointer against the pad.

her hair is shorter this time, a perky bob in some brown color. he can see the sheen of her lipgloss despite the cheap webcam quality, some specks of glitter around her eyes. she’s already topless. she grins at the camera, typing something on a keyboard out of sight, then sits back against the cushions of her bed, getting herself comfortable.

sicheng hits full-screen and puts the laptop on the coffee table in front of him, as close as possible without tipping over the edge. his right hand drops to the front of his sweats, lazily palming himself as she gets into it, cupping her boobs and teasing her nipples stiff.

it doesn’t take long to get hard. he pushes his pants down his hips, dick flopping out into the open. plays around a little, testing the springiness of his boner a couple of times before taking it in his hand and starting to jerk.

she’s just halfway through her show when he sighs and lets his hand drop. his eyes sail off, shifting over his ceiling and walls before coming back to the screen. her high-pitched moans run flat through his ears. he leans forward and scrolls down with his left hand, scanning through the related videos, before finally hitting x and closing the laptop lid instead.

he slips off the earphones and sinks deeper into the couch, head tipping back. props one foot against the table edge and closes his eyes as he lets his fingers travel; over his lower stomach, inner thigh, over his balls and up along his dick again. allows his mind to wander, images surfacing.

a body materializes, barely more than a presence. he runs his left hand over his chest, picturing someone else’s touch. a warmth, a grin, a slick tongue. it takes a whole moment or two for him to realize that it’s jaehyun; jaehyun, next to him, with him. jaehyun’s eyes on him, lips on him, skin on him.

sicheng sucks in a breath, sudden like a sigh, finding it thick in his throat. he looks down at his dick, fuller now, darker. he brings his hand up, licks over the pad of his thumb and drags it over the tip, smearing a dash of precum, grunting in the back of his throat.

he shifts, grips himself again, hand moving faster now. closes his eyes.

 

 

they’re in the kitchen, jaehyun making dinner and sicheng being helpful. he’s on washing and peeling duty while jaehyun’s at the stove, stirring something that is already spreading an aromatic cloud through the room.

jaehyun starts humming behind him, low and absent-minded, some sweet little melody sicheng doesn’t know, his voice rich and smooth. sicheng doesn’t turn around, just stands there and peels his vegetables, smiling a little to himself. slowly, suddenly, his stomach clenches, muscles tightening like a fist. his hands still. something runs through him, small and trickling, warm and sweet and bitter all at the same time, softening his insides to mush.

sicheng quietly pulls in a breath. okay. he’s in love with jaehyun. he’s in love with his best friend.


	8. Chapter 8

_august_

 

the alarm clock reads eight forty-five. sicheng lies still so jaehyun won’t wake up. 

he’s sprawled on his stomach, sheet thrown over his back, leaving sicheng only a strip of space by the wall. sicheng can’t see his face, turned away, but he can hear the soft snores coming from the other side of the pillow. sicheng looks at the silky mop of dark hair, feeling the small smile resting on his lips.

if he’s been acting weird since his little epiphany a couple of days ago, jaehyun doesn’t seem to have noticed.

his first instinct was to ball it up and stow it away deep in the back of his brain, safely hidden where it would never see the light of day. it still sits there, but he doesn’t need to have the lid on as tight anymore. he has touched on it, felt it, is starting to get used to the weight, the presence. maybe he has let his mind brush against the idea of saying something a couple of times, but always pushed the thought away.

jaehyun doesn’t want a _relationship_ , sicheng has reminded himself. he wants to sow his wild oats; collect notches in his belt, stories to tell. sicheng gets that.

he moves carefully, shifting over to his back, eyes blank on the ceiling.

this isn’t bad, after all. he should be grateful. if jaehyun isn’t _his_ , this - getting to be his friend, getting to fuck him, getting to wake up next to him in the morning - is certainly the best option. sicheng still has a lot of him. he doesn’t want to lose that. he can’t risk that.

but it’s okay. nothing has changed, really. he can do this. jaehyun doesn’t need to know.

sun falls in through the slots of the blinds, sharp glowing lines crawling slowly over the tousled sheets. after a while there is a sigh-like noise from the other side of the bed. jaehyun stirs, shifting his limbs, smacks his lips a little and then turns his head. 

“morning,” sicheng says in a soft voice, grinning at how jaehyun’s eyes crack open, squinted and wrinkly. 

“mhm,” jaehyun grunts, not bothering to leave the depths of his pillow.

“slept well?

jaehyun doesn’t answer, only yawns wide into the sheets, but sicheng takes that as a yes.

“you want breakfast? i can make something.”

jaehyun’s visible eyebrow lifts a tad. “you? cook?”

sicheng resists the urge to make a face at him. it’s not very hard. “i can make toast.”

jaehyun’s eyes slide shut again. “‘kay.”

“okay?”

“yeah.”

sicheng pushes himself up and climbs over him. “don’t go back to sleep.”

“mm.”

 

 

“naksan is boring,” yuta says, standing behind youngho’s chair, arms leaned on the backrest. “it’s so touristy. we need to get out of the city, see some nature.”

they’ve all gathered at youngho’s on sunday to plan the small trip youngho and yuta have roped them into. empty styrofoam boxes and dirty plates litter the table. youngho and ten are hunched over the laptop, scrolling through a travel-guide.

“we go to the beach to go to the beach,” ten argues calmly. “if you wanna go to a forest, go to a forest.”

“it doesn’t have to be a forest. i’m just saying, we don’t have to go where everybody else goes.” yuta pats youngho on the shoulder. “don’t you know any smaller beach towns?”

youngho shakes his head. “you’re forgetting i only moved to korea like four years ago.” he looks over at jaehyun, sitting across sicheng on the other side of the table. “hey, jaehyun. got any suggestions?”

“huh?” jaehyun says, looking up from his phone which he’s been occupied with for the past couple of minutes. 

“suggestions?” youngho repeats patiently, motioning towards the screen.

jaehyun shrugs. “i dunno. gyeongpo?”

yuta groans. “dude, have you been listening at all?”

ten gives a cackle and sicheng grins at them, then finds himself starting to tune the conversation out. he can tell it’s going to take a while, and he doesn’t care much about their destination as long as there’s sand and he’ll get to swim. he takes a sip from his half-empty soda can and then leans forward over the table, resting his chin in his hand.

that’s when he notices jaehyun holding his phone weirdly; hovering it vertically some ten centimeters over the tabletop. his eyes are focused on the screen, adjusting the position and angle a little, then they dart up and catch sicheng looking at him. 

a sheepish grin flashes over jaehyun’s face, but he only looks back down again. he taps his thumb on the screen, looking satisfied.

sicheng stretches his leg out and taps his foot against jaehyun’s under the table. jaehyun looks up at him again, putting on an innocent face. then he raises the phone higher.

sicheng snorts quietly. he shifts, tilting his head, pushing his cheek up with his knuckles. jaehyun taps. moves again, pulling his lips up in a grimace. jaehyun grins, snapping away.

he allows jaehyun another couple of unflattering shots before sneakily reaching for his own phone, lying next to him on the table. he quickly mutes it and opens the camera.

jaehyun crinkles his nose but leans back, putting his phone down. sicheng taps the shutter, biting the inside of his lip. jaehyun with his head tipped to the side and a somewhat pained expression. jaehyun flaring his nostrils. jaehyun baring his teeth in a stiff, cartoonish smile. jaehyun hunched forward, bangs hanging over his eyes. jaehyun half hiding behind his coke bottle.

“what are you guys doing?” comes yuta’s voice, sounding amused, making sicheng start and jaehyun pull up straight in his seat. 

“nothing,” sicheng says, putting his phone down.

“yeah, nothing,” jaehyun says.

yuta snorts at them but soon looks back down to the laptop screen. “okay,” he tells youngho. “search for hostels in the area.”

 

 

 _out tonite?_ yuta texts him the next day.

 _it’s monday,_ sicheng writes back.

_xactly. cheap drinks, short lines. so?_

sicheng thinks about it, then shrugs to himself. he doesn’t have class tomorrow anyway. _ok,_ he types. _whos coming_

_just the 4 of us. cba dealing w str8 ppl today_

he snorts, but doesn’t have time to reply before his phone beeps again.

_come over b4. 8ish?_

_ok_

 

 

“so. what’s the plan for tonight?” yuta asks, eyes trained on his own reflection in his large full-length mirror. they had eaten take-out and caught up on some anime, and then sicheng had found himself audience for yuta’s process of deciding what to wear. it’s not a very interactive experience, because yuta usually doesn’t care much about what other people think.

“plan?” sicheng asks, sprawled flat on yuta’s bed, scratching his ear with his pinky.

“are you looking?”

“looking for what?”

yuta glances at him. “score,” he says patiently. “a hook-up. getting some.”

“oh,” sicheng says. he licks his lips. “i dunno. not really. why?”

“just checking.” yuta leans closer to the surface, poking at something on his face. “i can get you laid if you want.”

sicheng frowns. “i can get myself laid.”

“sure you can,” yuta says. “i’m just saying i can help you.”

sicheng turns his head to look at him. “just to be clear. you’re not offering yourself, right?”

yuta shoots him a sideway glance, grin just this side of non-menacing. “i don’t do small game, baby dong.” he walks over to his dresser, starting to pick around the insides of a box. “you don’t have to go all the way,” he continues, holding up an earring, then putting it back. “could just find someone to make out with, if you want.”

sicheng rubs his hand over his eyes. “why are you invested in this.”

yuta shrugs. “no reason. i was just thinking maybe you need something. like, a distraction.” he pauses, looking over at sicheng with that scanning gaze, kind of hard and soft at the same time. “or not?”

sicheng resists the urge to squirm. “no? i don’t know.” he’s not sure what’s the right answer here. what’ll spare him any actual jaehyun-related questions. “i’m just… not in the mood tonight.”

yuta cocks his head and lets him go. “okay.” 

he picks out two studs and plugs them into his ears, then stands in front of the mirror again, making sultry face at himself. 

“either way,” he says when he’s done, climbing onto the bed and taking a seat on sicheng’s hips. “let me do eyeliner on you.” 

sicheng grunts under the weight. 

“come on,” yuta coaxes, trying to grab his wrists.

sicheng purses his lips. “not too much.”

he catches the roll of yuta’s eyes. “don’t worry. i’ll make sure you look heterosexual.”

 

 

yuta chatters into his phone as they make their way up the stairs from the subway. “okay, but get your asses over here.” pause. “what? how long’ll that take?” pause. he laughs. “you fucker. so, when, approx?” pause. “fine. yeah. okay. yeah. later.”

the night has deepened, chipping away some of the heat from the day. the street is lit by the store fronts and neon signs lining it, mixing into a rainbow patchwork of colors stretching up the corridor of buildings. faint music streams out from restaurants and noraebangs. the strip of sky above is tinted in a dirty peach hue, the glow of cities that don’t sleep. 

they fall into the stream of people, bustling with voices and laughs.

“ten says they’re running a bit late,” yuta says, slipping his phone into his pocket. he draws closer and throws his arm around sicheng’s neck. “but we don’t need them, do we?”

“great. so i’m stuck with you for who knows how long.”

yuta brings his hand up, half ruffling, half tugging at sicheng’s hair. “you brat,” he mutters gently.

 

 

sicheng slips between clusters of moving bodies as he makes his way off the dance floor, air baked in the mix of perfumes and body heat. he can’t spot any unoccupied seating in the vicinity, so he heads towards the platform running along the wall, taking a seat on the edge. he’s panting a little, feeling trickles of sweat run down the back of his neck, but the adrenaline of dancing has pushed him to a pleasant high.

after some minute yuta materializes out of the crowd, coming up to him. he’s got a tall glass filled with a clear fluid in one hand and a bunch of napkins in the other, offering a couple to sicheng as he sits down next to him.

“thanks,” sicheng says, dabbing at his neck and his temples.

yuta tips his head back and downs a good third of the glass in one go. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and snorts when noticing sicheng staring at him.

“it’s just water,” he says, voice loud over the music, handing the glass to sicheng. “stay hydrated.”

sicheng takes a sip. it’s cold and delicious. he leans back against the lower bar of the railing and watches the mass of people, bouncing and snaking in time with the music, almost like a single organism. he feels the heavy beat pounding in his ears and in his veins, as if synchronizing with his pulse.

yuta takes up his phone, checking for messages, but puts it down again. he takes the glass back from sicheng’s hand, then something catches his eye and he turns his head to glance at a guy passing them.

sicheng leans closer to him. “found any big game yet?”

yuta laughs shortly. “seen a few, actually.”

“want me to help you score?”

yuta nudges him on the arm with his elbow. “i’m sorry for insulting your seduction skills, okay? is that what you wanna hear?” he takes another long sip of water, then holds out the glass to sicheng again. “want the rest?”

sicheng doesn’t answer because he has just spotted jaehyun, standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the dance floor. he’s not moving, just turning his head slowly, eyes seemingly scanning the crowd. 

sicheng doesn’t think to raise his arm and wave, or get up and head towards him. he just sits, like frozen, watching a ray from a spotlight pass over jaehyun’s face, like in slow-motion, turning his skin neon blue. he’s wearing a loose black tee, low neckline showing his collar bones, and his hair is styled. a speck of glitters catches under his ear. then his gaze floats in sicheng’s direction, and their eyes meet.

sicheng feels something slow and warm close around his windpipe. it’s not a long moment, but it feels drawn out, the music fading off to a dull background noise, the people and movements around him growing blurry and distant. a small smile spreads on jaehyun’s face, like a secret. sicheng bites into his lower lip, forcing a breath in through his constricted throat.

in the next moment yuta jumps up next to him, waving his arm straight, and time speeds back up to normal. ten appears on the platform, tugging on jaehyun’s arm, and jaehyun looks over at him, saying something. they start down the stairs, and yuta pulls sicheng up from the ledge. 

“hey,” ten half shouts over the music once they’ve found each other. “sorry we’re late.”

“what took you so long?” yuta complains at him.

jaehyun grins and throws an arm around sicheng’s neck, pulling him closer. he says something, but sicheng can’t make it out.

“what?” he asks.

jaehyun leans closer, breath tickling sicheng’s ear. “you look good.”

sicheng swallows. he feels overly aware of the softness of the skin of jaehyun’s elbow against his damp neck. “thanks,” he mouths back. “you too.”

ten is impatiently shifting around, head already bopping in time with the beat. “i want to dance,” he declares, looking around at them.

yuta laughs. he throws a quick look at sicheng and then puts his hand on ten’s arm. “let’s dance, then,” he says and steers ten away towards the dance floor.

jaehyun’s arm slides down, hand hooking over sicheng’s shoulder. “i’m gonna get something to drink,” he says, miming a shot-glass with his free hand. “you want?”

sicheng nods. they get a bottle of soju to split and then head over to a corner where the music isn’t so loud.

“i had the worst day at work today,” jaehyun says, slumping his shoulder against a wall.

sicheng leans back next to him and listens to him gripe, only adding an attentive hum here and there, taking it all as an opportunity to look at jaehyun without having to hide it. he’s wearing a long earring in his left ear, a delicate metal thread hanging off his lobe with a small stone at the end, dangling and twinkling whenever he moves his head. his bangs are parted, one side swept up over the side of his forehead in a curve, a stray little strand hanging down over his eyes. he looks like something out of a glossy magazine.

“so, anyway,” jaehyun finishes. “what about you? anything happen today?” he takes a sip from the bottle and then passes it over.

“oh,” sicheng says. “nothing much.” he puts the bottle to his lips, not thinking about how it just touched jaehyun’s seconds earlier.

it’s pretty dark in their corner, half hidden behind a pillar. sicheng glances at the two guys next to them, making out against the wall, hands sliding over shoulders, over hips. deep shadows shift over jaehyun’s face with the moving lights, dulled shades of lavender and blue. he tilts his head, looking out over the party, a small tug playing at his lips. the shadow of his eyelashes, stretched long and pencil-thin, glides over his cheek.

sicheng’s fingers tighten around the throat of the bottle. he wants to reach out and touch jaehyun’s neck, curl his hand around it, wants to pull him close and feel him, feel his breath on his face. wants to kiss him. really, really wants to kiss him.

sicheng tears his eyes away, turns half around till his back meets the wall. lifts the bottle, takes another sip.

 

 

it’s some hour later, when they’ve lost ten to some informal dance competition and/or grinding pit, that a guy sicheng doesn’t know comes up to the three of them. 

“hey,” he says to jaehyun, voice hesitant. “jaehyun, right?”

jaehyun lights up. “oh, hey.”

they start chatting, and sicheng doesn’t listen in because it seems like a two-way conversation and yuta is in the mood for Attention. after a couple of minutes he hears _hey, wanna dance?_ and then jaehyun’s _yeah, sure._

“i’m gonna…” jaehyun says to them, looking at sicheng and then yuta and then sicheng again, motioning vaguely in the opposite direction. “is that okay?”

yuta looks at him weirdly. “sure, dude.”

“yeah, of course,” sicheng says. 

jaehyun nods and turns away, and the two of them disappear together.

sicheng stays listening to yuta for a bit, sipping his beer, then feels how the liquids have started reaching his bladder. 

“bathroom,” he mouths to yuta, getting up, and yuta nods.

yuta was right about mondays, as he is about a lot of things. there’s no line to the urinals, barely any people in the bathroom at all. sicheng zips himself up and then heads over to the basins, squeezing some soap into his palm. he looks at himself in the stylishly lit mirrors; the hint of black around his eyes, the full curve of his upper lip. he shakes the water off his hands and picks at his bangs with the wet fingers.

_you look good._

he ignores the annoying, warm satisfaction in his belly and heads back out, into the dark colors and pulsing music. 

yuta isn’t where he left him, and the couch is now occupied by some other people, so sicheng keeps moving. he stops at an empty spot, leaning against the railing running along the platform, looking down over the crowd. he grins at some dude flailing wildly to the beat, creating an empty circle around himself. a bunch of (pretty obviously straight) women are gathered around a beefy guy in tiny silver briefs dancing sensually on a podium, hooting and cheering.

then he spots jaehyun, mostly by chance, still with the guy from before. it’s hard to see properly through the darkness and flashing lights, but then the crowd shifts, creating a gap. they’re dancing close together, bodies moving in a fluid rhythm. jaehyun’s smiling. they lean in to exchange some words, hand on shoulder, mouth hovering by cheek, and then he laughs.

a cold wave rolls from sicheng’s neck, down to his lower back. something twists in his midsection, right beneath his ribs. he looks around again, but he can’t see ten or yuta anywhere. his hands twitch, thumb starting to hack at the nail of his middle finger. 

he leaves the railing and heads down the balcony, almost bumping into someone’s shoulder. he walks down the short flight of stairs and crosses through the crowd towards the bar.

 

 

jaehyun keeps a hand on sicheng’s shoulder all the way from the subway station to his building, steering him gently in a straight line along the sidewalk. 

“okay,” sicheng says muddily when they reach the backyard, shaking him off. “i’m good.”

“i’ll walk you in,” jaehyun says.

he stays two steps behind sicheng up the stairs. once at the door, sicheng gets his keys out of his pocket but has trouble picking out the right one and getting it into the lock.

“let me,” jaehyun says finally, taking them from his hands and unlocking the door.

sicheng gets inside, finds the lightswitch and manages to get his shoes off without using his hands or losing his balance.

“you don’t have to do this,” he says, vaguely aware of his accent coming out stronger than usual. “i can take care of myself.”

the very next moment he stubs his toe against the threshold, yelps and might have stumbled face-first to the floor if jaehyun hadn’t grabbed onto his arm.

“can you?” jaehyun asks, pulling him upright.

the hand is back on sicheng’s shoulder, gently but firmly herding him through the room towards the bed.

“besides, it’s no problem. you’re my best friend. it's what bros do.”

“shut up,” sicheng mutters, barely audibly.

“what?” jaehyun says.

sicheng keeps quiet. he climbs onto his bed, landing on his stomach with a grunt, pulling his arm up to rest his forehead on. “i don’t want to be your best friend,” he mumbles.

“what?” jaehyun says again.

“i don’t want to be your best friend,” sicheng repeats, louder and clearer now, feeling his eyes starting well up. a hard lump has already formed in his throat. he swallows, willing himself not to sob. not like this, not drunk off his ass, not in front of jaehyun.

“okay,” jaehyun says, tone flat, neutral. or maybe sicheng just isn’t perceptive enough to pick up nuances at the moment. “you don’t have to.”

sicheng’s nose has started running, and he sniffles quietly to keep it in. he doesn’t want to look up, doesn’t want to see jaehyun’s face, doesn’t want jaehyun to look at him. 

“do you feel sick?” jaehyun asks.

sicheng shakes his head into the mattress.

“i’ll get you a bucket, just in case.” sicheng hears his steps leading away, some distant rummaging at the other end of the apartment, and then he’s back, putting something plastic down on the floor by the bed. “here’s some water too,” he says, and there’s a small thud at the top of the dresser. “do you want me to stay?”

sicheng shakes his head again.

there’s a pause, but then jaehyun says; “okay. i’ll lock the door.”


	9. Chapter 9

sicheng sleeps deep, not dreaming, until he suddenly realizes that he’s awake.

it’s not a very pleasant state. the composition of reality is a tad diffuse and he needs a moment to figure out what’s up and what’s down. his limbs are heavy, signals running to and from his brain at snail-speed. he cracks his eyes open, crusty and foggy, squinting at the brightness of the room. nobody pulled the blinds down last night.

his tongue is dry and tacky, sticking to the roof of his mouth. he opens it, jaws cracking in his ears, trying to produce some saliva and swallow, but the back of his throat glues together and stops the reflex short. slowly he surveys his field of vision and spots the bottle of water standing on the dresser. he sends his silent thanks to the universe as he prepares to sit up. 

raising his head from the pillow sends a swarm of invisible daggers through his forehead, but he manages to push up on his elbow, and from there into a vertical position. he fumbles for the bottle, gets the cap off and lets the water run down his throat in long gulps until it sloshes around in his empty stomach.

he’s still in the t-shirt from yesterday, now creased and damp under the arms. he must have wormed out of his jeans at some point during the night because they’re lying in a heap on the floor, phone peeking out from underneath. his pillowcase is decorated with dark smudges.

he digs some aspirin out of one of the drawers and knocks one back, then lowers himself down onto the mattress again, closes his eyes and lies still until the need to piss gets too strong to ignore.

the soft grey dimness of the bathroom soothes his senses a bit. he sits down on the toilet because he doesn’t trust his aim at the moment, sighing as the pressure at his bladder eases. he peels off his clothes and drops them in the general direction of the hamper. stands, half-heartedly rinses off his hands and pats them down on the towel, and then forces himself to meet his gaze in the mirror.

his hair is a mess, lying flat on one side and standing out in tufts on the other. his eyes are puffy, cheeks hanging lifeless underneath, shoulders sagging. the eyeliner that hasn’t transferred to his pillow has sprawled over his lids, small streaks of grey running from the corners of his eyes.

why did he let yuta put that shit on him? 

sicheng tips forward, forehead coming to rest against the cool surface. he squeezes his eyes shut as select details from last night start replaying in his head, embarrassment tying a hard knot in his stomach.

had he allowed himself to entertain something? paint a picture, however subconscious and vague. had he allowed himself to harbour some kind of hope? he knew exactly what this is, and what it isn’t. yet he had stood there, dolled up, feeling good about himself. had let it get to him. what did he expect? all he managed to do was make a complete ass of himself.

“fucking moron,” he mutters, lifting his hands and rubbing his palms hard over his eyes. then he gets into the shower and scrubs until his whole body is clean.

the idea of just going back to bed and spending the rest of the day there is very tempting, but he knows what he has to do and he’d rather get it over with sooner than later. he lies sprawled on the couch in his towel, zapping around the day-time tv until he feels human enough, then pulls on some clothes, pushes a cap down over his damp hair and steps outside.

he pauses on the steps before pressing the doorbell, pulling in a breath and trying to look not too obviously hungover in case it’s jaehyun’s mom who opens.

it’s jaehyun, though. “oh,” he says. “hey.” then he looks at sicheng properly, and half a grin spreads on his mouth. “good morning?”

sicheng grimaces at him. “can i come in?”

“sure,” jaehyun says and steps back.

“are your parents home?” sicheng asks in a quiet voice, closing the door.

“nope, just me.” jaehyun turns and disappears through the doorway, and sicheng shuffles after him into the kitchen. the room is sunny and fresh, one window open to let in a breeze of fresh air, the curtain waving lazily above. jaehyun leans back against the kitchen island with his arms crossed, grinning at him. “how are you feeling?”

sicheng rubs a hand over his face. “i’ve been better.”

“have you eaten anything?”

“no, i’m not hungry. do you have coffee?”

jaehyun’s mouth twists. “you’ll get the shakes. you should eat something first.” he steps over to the fridge and pulls the door open, starting to dig around. “there’s some rice and beef stew,” he says, looking back at sicheng.

sicheng nods. “okay. thanks.”

jaehyun takes out a bowl and spoons a small portion into it, then lets it spin in the microwave for a minute. he motions in the direction of the table and sicheng walks over and sinks down on a chair, propping his right foot up on the seat.

“there’s more if you want,” jaehyun says as he puts the bowl and spoon in front of him.

“thanks,” sicheng says again. he pokes around a bit, mixing the rice with the sauce before dutifully putting some into his mouth. it’s not hot, just lukewarm, enough to stir the flavors awake and make it easier to eat. he doesn’t have much of an appetite, but as he chews and swallows he feels how his body welcomes a bit of food.

jaehyun gets the coffee machine going and then sits down across from him, taking out his phone from his pocket. sicheng watches his thumb swiftly tap in the code, hit an icon and starting to scroll through something.

sicheng slowly makes it through half of the bowl, then swallows properly and wipes his mouth with his hand. “hey,” he says, clearing his throat a little. “so. about last night…”

“yeah?” jaehyun glances up at him, a small curve at his lips. “got kinda wild.”

sicheng smiles faintly. he shifts, nudging at a chunk of meat with his spoon. “thanks for… getting me home and everything.”

“no problem,” jaehyun says. “it’s not like it was a detour.”

“right,” sicheng says. he takes a breath. “also, i’m sorry.”

“for?”

sicheng looks down, scraping his thumbnail over the edge of the spoon. “for getting drunk like that and. saying stupid shit.”

jaehyun hums, putting his phone down on the table. “so you remember that.”

sicheng feels something hitch in his chest, pulse speeding up a little. “i didn’t mean anything by it,” he says quickly. “i mean, i was hammered.”

jaehyun doesn’t say anything, just looks at him blankly, and sicheng finds himself starting to ramble, words spilling out all on their own.

“of course we’re friends.” he licks his lips. “of course i want to be friends with you. we’ve known each other for years. you’re the closest friend i have. yuta and everyone… i mean. it’s not the same. you’re my main. i like… like being with you.” he stifles a cringe. “of course i wanna be your friend. you… what we have. it really. means a lot to me.” 

the hint of a smile has settled on jaehyun’s face. “really?”

“uh,” sicheng says, realizing it’s the first time he has said anything like this. “yeah.”

jaehyun cocks his head. “okay,” he says. “apology accepted.”

sicheng sinks back against the backrest of the chair, feeling a little out of breath.

jaehyun gets up and walks over to the counter, taking two small mugs from the cupboard and filling them with steaming coffee. “you’ll probably get to make it up to me some time anyway,” he says, putting one of them down in front of sicheng, sitting back down with the other.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, sooner or later i’ll be the one getting wasted and you’ll have to drag my ass home and listen to me talk crap and hold my hair when i barf.”

“i didn’t barf,” sicheng protests, a little too quickly.

jaehyun grins at him over the rim of his cup. “i never said you did.”

sicheng snorts and presses his lips together. he picks up his mug, left hand fingers light on the warm porcelain, pulling the scent into his nose. it’s rich and bitter, prickling him awake.

“so we’re cool?” jaehyun asks.

sicheng looks up, wondering if that’s not his line. “yeah.”

jaehyun nods. “cool.”

 

 

the campus streets are quiet and empty, the night dark and warm. they park their bikes outside the gymnasium. sicheng pushes the bolt into the wheel lock and takes the cable off the rack. 

“can we share?” jaehyun asks, hand on his saddle. “i forgot mine.”

“sure,” sicheng says. he steps around, leaning over and stretching his arm, struggling to fit the cable into jaehyun’s front wheel. “a little help?”

jaehyun laughs and reaches down, fitting the end between the spokes and reaching it back to sicheng’s hand. sicheng loops it around the bike stand, back through his own wheel, and rolls the code to a random.

they can hear voices and the springy thuds of ball hitting turf when they come around the building. the court is lit by four tall spotlights, one in each corner, pale and harsh in the darkness. four figures move beneath one basket, a spot of orange changing hands.

youngho spots them when they approach the gap in the fence. “oh, hey,” he pants, pausing to wipe sweaty hair out of his face. “you made it.”

“cool,” yuta says, smacking jaehyun’s palm as he passes him. “three on three?”

“dibs on jaehyun!” ten shouts immediately. 

sicheng makes an ugly face at him but heads over to yuta’s and hansol’s side, letting yuta pull him into a headlock.

“wanna do full court?” hansol asks.

yuta groans. “fuck, no. can’t be arsed running that much.”

sicheng isn’t great at ball sports but he’s fairly quick and nimble, and they’ve played often enough that he usually manages to score a couple of points. it doesn't take long before he starts sweating in the thick air.

he has just received a pass from hansol and is starting to dribble in search for an opening when jaehyun appears out of nowhere and steals the ball from his hands, flashing him a grin in the process. he deftly rounds yuta and takes the span to the basket in three long strides before flicking the ball up and sinking it through the ring.

“dong!” yuta complains as ten and youngho cheer loudly. “get your head in the game!”

“you didn't stop him either,” sicheng argues, circling around as hansol picks up the bouncing ball. it makes a couple of rounds, and then yuta scores.

“fluke,” ten says just loud enough for yuta to hear, grabbing the ball and skipping over to the three-point line. he bounces it a bit, then tosses it over to youngho. hansol is immediately on him, blocking the route to the ring with his long arms, and youngho looks around for his teammates.

sicheng catches jaehyun in the corner of his eye and quickly steps in front of him, gaze on youngho’s hands. he waves his arms obnoxiously, following when jaehyun tries to escape off to the sides. they bump into each other and then jaehyun shoves at him and sicheng shoves back, perhaps jamming his elbow into jaehyun’s ribs.

the ball flies past them and jaehyun makes for it, pushing past sicheng roughly but sicheng is on his heels, tackling him to get to it first. jaehyun stumbles, growls, turns and goes after sicheng instead. sicheng feels arms hooking around his waist, feels his back press against jaehyun’s damp chest and then he’s being half dragged, half wrestled away, flapping his arms and yelling _foul! foul!_ with jaehyun’s deep breathless laughter in his ear.

they tumble to the ground in a pile of sweaty limbs and sicheng rolls off jaehyun, gasping between giggles.

youngho stands at the side looking at them, hands on his hips. “are you guys in or what?”

 

 

sicheng’s in the kitchen, wrist-deep in suds and grease when he hears the doorbell ring through the music playing in his earbuds. he has half a mind to shout _use the key_ , but then sighs and grabs a kitchen towel to wipe off his hands on the way out to the hallway. he flicks the lock and pushes the door open by the handle.

“hey,” he says. “i’m just gonna finish up the dishes.”

“okay,” jaehyun says, stepping inside.

sicheng returns to the sink and jaehyun disappears into the living room. 

sicheng rinses off his glasses and then his bowls, hands moving steadily and mechanically. he hums along to the melody streaming in his ears, some earworm that’s all over at the moment, probably out of key but he doesn't care. he doesn’t like cleaning but he doesn’t mind washing up; something nice about chores that require zero brain effort. the song passes, and then another one.

he almost starts when feeling jaehyun come up behind him, close enough for his breath to tickle over the back of sicheng’s neck. “hn?” he mumbles, turning his head and catching jaehyun’s grin.

jaehyun reaches up and takes one bud from sicheng’s ear, pulling it towards his own, and sicheng feels the chord slide over the skin of his chest.

“what is this?” jaehyun chuckles.

“radio,” sicheng says, rubbing at a couple of spoons. “i don’t know the song.”

“huh,” jaehyun hums and lets the bud drop, hanging limp from the neckline of sicheng’s tank. his hands come up to sicheng’s shoulders, palms warm, thumbs running light circles over his trapeziuses. “you want some help?”

“nah, i’m almost done.”

“almost done?”

“yeah.”

jaehyun doesn’t move, only stays rubbing softly over sicheng’s shoulders. then sicheng feels the tip of a nose brush at his skin, right where his hair ends, sending little puffs of warm air down his neck. then comes lips.

sicheng’s hands still as slow little kisses land on his nape, travelling slowly to the slope of his shoulder. down, and then up, that nose stroking just behind his ear, and sicheng knows where this is going.

he stares blankly in front of him, tempted, feeling blood automatically starting to pool in his crotch. then his face twists and he shrugs jaehyun away. “stop it.”

jaehyun pulls back, hands dropping off his shoulders. “okay.” he steps back, leaning against the counter behind sicheng. sicheng opens the tap, spray harder than necessary, rinsing off a handful of cutlery.

“is something wrong?” jaehyun asks.

sicheng shrugs, not turning around. “i’m just not in the mood.”

“okay,” jaehyun says again, and goes back out.

he’s curled up on the couch when sicheng follows a couple of minutes later, looking at something on his phone. sicheng sits down on the floor, leaned back against the other armrest, and opens the laptop sitting on the coffee table. he opens his bookmarks and clicks on a video link, plugging in the earphones and putting one bud back into his ear.

“what are you watching?” jaehyun asks after a minute.

“some dance performance ten sent over,” sicheng says, eyes not leaving the screen. “we’re thinking about incorporating some moves like these into our new choreo.”

“huh,” jaehyun says. “that’s cool.”

dusk is starting to fall outside, giving the room a murky blue color.

“you wanna go for a walk?” jaehyun says. “we could get a snack or something.”

“no, i’m tired,” sicheng says.

the video plays through and he clicks on another one.

“wanna watch a movie?” jaehyun asks.

“no,” sicheng says. he pulls his knees up to his chest and folds his arms on top, feeling his shoulders protest the movement a little, muscles stiff. it usually doesn’t get awkward when they’re not in the mood to talk. most times they can hang around, side by side, coexisting in a comfortable silence. today, sicheng feels overly aware of jaehyun’s presence, his every little movement and sound. feels like his personal space has grown, borders seeping into every corner of his apartment. 

sicheng plugs in the second bud.

after a while jaehyun gets up and walks around the table and says something. sicheng looks up, pulling out his earphones.

“i think i’m just gonna head home,” jaehyun repeats.

something urgent and uncomfortable passes through sicheng’s chest. “what,” he says, voice hard. “so if you’re not getting laid, you don’t wanna hang out with me?”

jaehyun’s eyes widen, and then he frowns. “what? where did that come from?” he splays his hands, shoulders pulled up. “you said you’re tired, i don’t want to be in your hair.”

sicheng looks back to the screen, ignoring the cold feeling down his back. “okay. do what you want.”

jaehyun doesn’t move. “dude,” he says. “if you don’t want to fool around that’s fine, but why are you being like this?”

“like what?”

“like this,” jaehyun says, gesturing vaguely in sicheng’s direction. “weird. saying you don’t want to be friends with me, and shit.”

“i was drunk,” sicheng reminds him.

“so it just, didn’t mean anything?”

“no,” sicheng says, feeling like he’s on very thin ice. “i told you, it didn’t.”

“if something’s bothering you, can’t you just say it?”

sicheng looks at him hard, mouth pursed. “nothing’s bothering me.”

jaehyun crosses his arms over his chest. “really? you don’t have a problem with me?”

“no.” 

“so do you want me to stay or not.”

sicheng looks back to the screen again, moving the marker back to the beginning of the video. “i don’t care.”

jaehyun stands for another moment, looking at him, then he sighs and walks out. sicheng hears the front door close. 

he sucks in a breath, the sound stark in the silence. his head tips forward, hand coming up to rake through his bangs.

okay. maybe this isn’t so easy after all.

 

 

he calls jaehyun a couple of hours later, before going to bed, hoping jaehyun isn’t asleep yet. his heart pounds a little as he opens his contacts, but he doesn’t wait before tapping jaehyun’s number.

“hey,” comes jaehyun’s voice, curt.

“hi,” sicheng says. “did i wake you up?” even though he obviously didn’t.

“no,” jaehyun says. “it’s okay.”

sicheng hums shortly. “so,” he says. straight to the point. again. “i’m sorry. you’re right, i overreacted. i…”

jaehyun doesn’t say anything right away and sicheng bites his lip, afraid he’ll start ranting again.

“i’ve been tired, and. but that doesn’t matter, i just…”

“look,” jaehyun says, cutting him off. “it’s okay. don’t sweat it.”

“oh,” sicheng says, feeling like something opens up inside him, making it a little easier to breathe.

“maybe i was unfair to you too.”

sicheng shifts on his bed, leaning back against the wall.

“you don’t have to talk to me about shit if you don’t want to,” jaehyun says. “but you know i’m here, right? if you need it.”

sicheng slides his eyes shut.

“i don’t know what you’re dealing with, but. whatever it is…” jaehyun continues, words slow, like he’s looking for them as he goes. “i’m not going anywhere. if you don’t want me to.”

“yeah,” sicheng says, voice thick. “okay.”

the line is silent for a bit, then jaehyun says; “so, it’s kinda late, so…”

“yeah,” sicheng says quickly. “see you… tomorrow. or whenever.”

“okay,” jaehyun says. another pause. “goodnight.”

“‘night.”


	10. Chapter 10

three pm. the afternoon heat has crept in and settled like a thick blanket over the city. the room is a twilight grey with the blinds down. jaehyun’s soft moans float through the stagnant air of the apartment.

a drop of sweat travels out of sicheng’s hair and down the side of his neck. he wipes his mouth with his hand and moves up jaehyun’s body, their skin sliding together, chest to chest, thigh against thigh, damp and sticky. a shiver runs down his back when the breeze from the table fan brushes over his shoulder. he licks the moisture from the dip beneath jaehyun’s lower lip, mouth dry, kisses slick and salty.

they lie still, long after the sweat has dried to a thin, tacky film on their bodies, sunken deep into post-coital lethargy. sicheng doesn’t want to move. he wouldn’t mind just staying there, sprawled naked next to each other, for the rest of the day. 

the conversation has, as it does, sailed onto the topic of genitalia.

"i'd hate to be one of those guys with a constant dick print, though," sicheng says. “always looking like you've got a halfy. can’t wear sweats in public. it’s just awkward.”

jaehyun chuckles. "i dunno. it's kind of hot when you can see what a guy is packing. like when someone wears tight jeans and it just... gives you a hint of it. not all up in your face, just reminding you that it's there."

"where else would it be," sicheng deadpans.

jaehyun lazily lifts his hand to slap him on the chest with the back of it. “you know what i mean.”

sicheng scratches at his nose. “even worse when it's not even that it's big, it just... sticks out." he makes an illustrative gesture with his finger, grinning when it makes jaehyun snort. "or it's crooked."

"there's this guy at my gym," jaehyun starts. "always wearing sweats or loose shorts and looking like he's got some serious junk. your eyes just go there whether you like it or not. but, like." he licks his lips. "it's all balls."

sicheng cracks up, stomach muscles twitching with his giggles.

jaehyun grins. "huge, tight nards with this small weiner sitting on top. i had kind of been building expectations so gotta say, i was a bit disappointed when i finally saw him in the showers. not that i was into him or anything, it was just... an anti-climax."

"maybe he's a grower."

"for his sake, i hope so."

sicheng tucks his arm under his neck. "i never took you for a size queen."

jaehyun laughs. "i'm not."

"hey, it's okay. we all have preferences."

jaehyun shrugs. "i’m not picky. it's more about who it's attached to, anyway. size isn't at the top of my list of priorities or anything."

“you’re pretty big,” sicheng says, looking over at him.

“what?” jaehyun says. “not really.”

“bigger than me.”

"well, yeah, a bit. but like, that doesn't mean it's big. i’d say average."

"so you're saying i'm small?" sicheng asks conversationally.

jaehyun makes a discomforted noise. “that’s not what i meant.” he’s quiet for a moment, then turns his head to look at sicheng properly. “are you bothered by that stuff?”

“what?”

“size and shit.”

sicheng gives half a shrug. "i don't know. not really."

"hey," jaehyun says. "you know that doesn't matter."

sicheng stifles another fit of giggles at his sudden older-brother tone.

jaehyun taps his foot against sicheng's. "i mean it. that shit is just bullshit. bigger isn't better."

"that's nice of you."

"seriously," jaehyun persists. there’s laughter in his voice but he looks at sicheng with a straight face. "i like your dick. it's a great dick."

sicheng smiles, despite himself. “oh? yours is pretty good too.” he shifts to his side and reaches down to poke at the dick in question, lying shrunken and soft against jaehyun’s thigh. it makes jaehyun squirm a little. sicheng contemplates it for a moment before deciding he’s too lazy to initiate a second round and moves his hand away.

he runs his fingertips through the soft hairs of jaehyun’s sparse happy trail, upwards, traces a slow circle around his belly button. feels the small ridges of his ribs, running down the side of his chest. takes a turn below his nipple, coming up by the fold of his arm.

that’s when he looks up and realizes jaehyun's looking at him funny. sicheng quickly pulls away and rolls over to his back again.

 

 

come monday morning sicheng grabs his duffel, chucks the trash bag in the chute and walks down the side street towards jaehyun’s house. youngho’s car is already parked on the driveway when he comes around the corner. the trunk stands open with the lower half of yuta sticking out of it, bent inside to dig around for something. ten’s in the front seat, arm hanging out of the rolled-down window.

“hey, sicheng,” he says. “sicheng’s here.”

youngho emerges from the garden path. “yo,” he says. “right on time.”

the air is clear, the sun shining from a blue sky, making the lacquer on the car roof sparkle. sicheng walks over to the back, nudges yuta’s side and holds out his duffel bag. yuta gives him a dark look but takes it and loads it in the trunk nonetheless. 

jaehyun comes out behind youngho, rounding the car to stuff his bag in on top of the others before heading back towards the house.

“are you done?” youngho asks. 

“yeah, almost,” jaehyun calls back. “just give me a minute.”

“if anyone needs a potty break before we leave, now’s the time,” youngho says in a naggy voice, half playful. “looking at you, ten.”

ten looks up with an offended frown. “what? why me?”

yuta shuts the trunk and gets into the backseat. sicheng waits with his arms crossed over the open door on the other side until jaehyun comes back.

“do you want the middle seat?”

jaehyun gives him a knowing look. “nobody wants the middle seat.”

“fine,” sicheng sneers and slides in, scooting up to yuta’s side. jaehyun presses in next to him and pulls the door closed. 

“okay, ladies and gents,” youngho drawls, turning the key in the ignition. “this is your captain speaking. the roadtrip of twenty-seventeen is ready for take-off. please stay buckled-up and keep all limbs inside the vehicle for the duration of the ride.”

the mood is high as they cross out of the city and speed up on the highway, but then it settles down. jaehyun’s hand sits comfortably on sicheng’s thigh, fingers squeezing lightly once in a while. sicheng watches the urban landscape thinning out, making way for trees and fields and growing hills.

jaehyun reaches down to the backpack between his feet, coming back up with his earbuds. he plugs them in and sits back, eyes coming to rest on the scenery flashing by outside the window. after a while he shifts and scoots down in his seat, leaning his head against sicheng’s shoulder. sicheng closes his eyes and starts dozing off.

they’re about halfway and deep in the mountains when youngho switches to the right lane and pulls them into a rest-stop. they pile out of the small car, stretching and grunting. sicheng follows ten to the bathrooms to take a leak, then wanders through the small food court into the adjoining convenience store, trying to decide what he’s craving. he sees yuta over the aisles, who spots him too and strolls over.

“you wanna split a coke?” yuta asks. “i don’t want a whole bottle.”

“okay.” sicheng passes him, scanning the shelves. yuta trails after him, picking at a small bag of chips.

“i was thinking,” he says, “since we booked two rooms and all. do you want the smaller one? you and jaehyun?”

“what?” sicheng says. he quickly looks around to check that there’s nobody within immediate earshot. “why?”

“why not?” yuta says, looking at him like it’s the most natural idea in the world. “so you can have some privacy.”

sicheng feels a flash of heat run over his face. “do you think we’re unable to keep our hands off each other, or something?” he hisses. “this isn’t a fucking honeymoon.”

yuta’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. “that’s not what i meant.”

“then what?”

yuta rolls his eyes. “it was just a suggestion. i’m sorry for giving a shit, i guess.”

“don’t be weird, hyung,” sicheng grunts. “ _you_ can room with jaehyun.”

yuta snorts. “okay then.”

 

 

the town is small but long, squeezed in between the hills and the shoreline. the guesthouse is located in a blocky building in the middle of the village; three stories of beige facade with square windows and a modest sign over the entrance. it’s not like the hip youth hostels in seoul but the interior is fresh and cozy and the lady at the front desk starts fussing over them the moment they walk in the door. they hang back, letting youngho do the talking since he made the reservation.

“how are we gonna split this up?” ten asks, flapping his hand in a vague chopping motion.

yuta immediately steps up to jaehyun and flings an arm around his neck. “i’ve been told to be your roommate.”

jaehyun laughs. “is that so? by whom?”

sicheng feels his back stiffen. he meets yuta’s eyes, seeing the mean glint flashing through them, but then yuta looks away, as if he has already lost interest. 

“doctor’s orders,” he says airily.

“huh?” jaehyun asks, but isn’t offered any explanation.

the next moment youngho comes over to them, dangling two sets of keys. “what are the teams?”

“yuta and jaehyun, apparently,” ten says. “and the three of us.”

“you’re on the third floor,” youngho says, handing jaehyun one of the keyrings. “we’re on second.”

“i’m hungry,” jaehyun says. “how about we just drop off our bags and then meet back down here and go have lunch.”

“cool.”

sicheng follows ten and youngho up the stairs while yuta and jaehyun head towards the elevator. they walk down the corridor till they find the room with their number on it. while ten is fiddling with the keys the door next to theirs opens.

“okay but if you’re not ready we’re gonna leave without you,” a voice calls, and two girls come out into the hallway. one is wearing a surf top and shorts, the other a loose sundress, both with beach bags slung over their shoulders. the shorter of the two turns around and spots the three of them, crowded awkwardly around the door.

“oh, hello,” she says, face splitting in a smile. “are you the new neighbors?”

“so it seems,” youngho says, grinning easily back and taking a step towards them.

“thank god. the last ones were a bore.”

youngho laughs. “how so?”

the two girls look at each other and giggle. “i think they were here to hike or something,” says the one in the dress. ”they weren’t very chatty.” 

“i guess it’s partly on us, though,” continues the first one. “this isn’t really the best place to come to if you’re looking for people to party with.” she throws another glance into their room, then looks back at youngho and sicheng and shifts her weight to one foot. “so what brings you guys here?”

“we heard the beach’s pretty good,” youngho says.

“it is good,” says the taller one, nodding. “have you seen it yet?”

“no, we just arrived. have you been here long?”

“we came yesterday. we’re just staying three nights,” she says. “where are you coming from?”

“seoul.”

“really?” the first girl lights up again. “so are we.”

ten has got the door open and turned to join the conversation, but sicheng slips past him into the room. it’s plain but not too small; two bunk-beds along the side walls with an armchair in the middle, under the window. on opposite sides of the door sits a bathroom and a sink with a microwave and a small fridge.

sicheng helps himself to first choice of beds, dropping his bag on it and starting to pull some stuff out while half listening to the voices outside. the girls, seemingly now joined by their friends, introduce themselves.

“i’m ten,” ten says.

“i’m youngho,” continues youngho’s voice. “and that…” sicheng turns his head just in time to see the thumb pointing into their room. “was sicheng.”

“it’s just you three, or?”

“no, we’ve got two more guys in another room.”

by then sicheng takes out his phone and stops paying attention. some minute later he hears _so, i guess we’ll see you around_ and _yeah_ s and _bye_ s.

 

 

after lunch they head back to change and then take the five minute walk down to the beach, stretching southwards from the little harbor in the middle of town. it’s wide and pale yellow, sloping gently upwards to the spine of bushes and trees lining it, the sand fine and silky. in the east the sea stretches out, blue and endless. lines of waves topped with white foam roll steadily in towards the shore, tumbling up on it with crisp splashing sounds.

sicheng and jaehyun stay in the longest, as usual, swimming and playing and diving down to the bottom to pick up slimy seaweed to throw at each other. finally they stumble up into the warm sand, drenched and panting and giggling. jaehyun looms over ten, shaking his head like a dog and making ten squeak and kick at his legs.

sicheng spreads his towel and flops down on it, jaehyun soon following next to him. he stretches out on his back and closes his eyes, feeling the sun slowly dry the droplets off his skin, the soft wind taking the edge off the heat. seabirds call in the distance, cutting through the drone of the waves. jaehyun’s hand lies right next to his arm, fingers occasionally brushing against it, slow and lazy.

voices stir sicheng from his half-slumber; greetings being exchanged. he blinks and sits up, squinting at the pale blueness of the world after the inside of his eyelids. it’s the four girls from before, with towels and wet hair. they stop in front of youngho and ten and yuta, easily falling into a chat again, but the one with the sundress walks past them, stepping straight up to sicheng and sitting down next to him in the sand.

“hey,” she says. “you’re chinese?”

sicheng blinks. “yeah.”

“sicheng, right? i’m jieqiong, but people call me kyulkyung.” she adds a smile and a _hi_ in jaehyun’s direction, then turns back to sicheng. “where are you from?” she asks in mandarin.

“zhejiang,” sicheng says. “you?”

“close.” she grins. “i’m from shanghai.”

“cool.”

she folds her arms around her knees, tilting her head at him. “how long have you lived in korea?”

“about six years,” sicheng says. “my parents used to move around a lot.”

“are they still here?”

“no, they moved back. what about you?”

“my dad got a job here when i was eleven.” she brushes some damp strands of hair out of her face with her hand. “i was homeschooled at first but i started in a korean school in junior high. i’m a ninety-eight-liner, by the way. you?”

he smiles. “ninety-seven.”

“are you in college? what’s your major?”

they chat for another minute or two, then the others starts moving and jieqiong shoots to her feet, giving him one last grin. “see you.”

when they’re gone jaehyun, who’s been sitting quiet, says; “who was that?”

“oh,” sicheng says. he waves his hand aimlessly. “they’ve got the room next to ours.”

jaehyun hums. “what did you guys talk about?”

sicheng shrugs. “nothing special.”

“she’s pretty.”

sicheng looks down at the sand. “yeah.”

 

 

in the evening the others go down to the lounge for some socializing but sicheng opts for staying behind in their room, mostly in the mood for some peace and quiet after the long day. he’s lying in bed watching videos on his phone when there’s a beep and a text from jaehyun at the top of the screen.

_wanna go for a swim?_

sicheng frowns. he opens the convo and types in; _now?_

 _yeah,_ comes back, followed by a cheeky emoji. _meet me downstairs?_

sicheng lies still for a moment, then sends an _ok_ and pushes himself off the bed. he quickly changes into swim trunks and a t-shirt and grabs his towel off the drying rack in the bathroom, then locks the door behind him.

jaehyun’s waiting in the lobby, studying some framed pictures and looking casual, turning to grin at him when sicheng comes down the stairs. sicheng hears the voices coming from the open doorway to the next room, instinctively crossing the line of vision in two quick steps.

“you ready?”

“yeah.”

the night is not like seoul nights. the sky is pitch black beyond the handful of street lamps dotting the parking lot. there’s not a soul in sight and it’s almost completely quiet, save from the muted barks of a dog and a car passing somewhere behind them. when they get off the road sicheng walks blind for a minute before his eyes adjust. the air is filled with august night warmth, the wind calmed to a lull. crickets play loudly in the bushes.

jaehyun keeps a brisk pace, sicheng almost starting to pant a little as he wades through the loose sand. the sea is a black nothingness, visible only in the grey, oil-slick shimmers on the little wavelets playing on the surface. a shy hint of color still lingers on the sky in the west, over the dark shapes of the mountains.

suddenly jaehyun stops, as if having found just the right spot. he’s out of his clothes and on his way down to the shoreline in seconds.

“hey,” sicheng says. “wait--” he kicks off his sand-filled sneakers and wrings the shirt over his head, dropping his stuff on the ground. he feels the sand change under his feet, going hard and flat, and then the luke-warm water hits his ankles.

he hears a splash ahead of him and after a few moments jaehyun breaks the surface further out, laughing. he turns around, just a dark silhouette glistening around the edges. “come on.”

sicheng sets off in a jog, legs sloshing and struggling in the deepening water. he throws himself straight in, right next to jaehyun, arms spread to make as big a splash as possible. he reemerges to the sound of jaehyun’s laughter, immediately getting a spray in his face in return.

 

 

the trail is steep and rocky, barely more than a string of bare earth slithering up the hillside. sicheng wipes sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he steps up on a large boulder, noting the faint and vaguely pleasant burn in his thigh muscles from the climb. the early midday sun is beating down and the sea breeze doesn’t reach them on this side. 

he turns his head to throw a look at jaehyun, a couple of meters behind. the ground drops away in waves beneath them, sunlight glowing in the leaves of the trees clinging to the slope. late summer flowers grow close to the ground between tall weeds and bushes. it smells of warm grass and dust.

“i’m soaked,” jaehyun says, sounding a little short of breath. “why did we decide to do this right now?”

sicheng laughs. “it was your idea.”

five minutes later they reach the summit, coming up on a flattened plateau lined by a railing, the cool wind immediately washing over them. sicheng pulls in the fresh air, salty and light. the view is good, as advertised; the valley on the left, filled with the village climbing up on the feet of the hills. on the right the flat of the ocean, continuing on as far as the eye can see.

jaehyun has taken his water bottle from his backpack and is pouring gulps into his mouth. he taps sicheng on the shoulder with it when he’s done, and sicheng takes it and drinks. he rests his arms on the high railing, the dampness on his skin already starting to dry.

jaehyun puts the bottle back and stands next to him, looking out over the water. after a minute he says something, but sicheng doesn’t pick it up. 

“what?” he says, turning his head towards him.

jaehyun’s lips press together, as if he’s already regretting the idea. “sea… the sea...” he says in stumbling mandarin. he waves a hand out, like it would help him. “is beautiful.”

sicheng laughs. “the sea is beautiful?” he repeats, automatically correcting the tones.

jaehyun grins sheepishly. “yes.”

“do you like the sea?” sicheng asks, slowly so jaehyun can follow.

“yes.”

“what do you like about it?”

jaehyun’s face scrunches up in concentration. “uh… pretty,” he starts, the syllables coming laboriously out of his mouth. “good? food? and…” he trails off, grunts, and starts making digging motions with his hands.

sicheng giggles. “swimming?” he suggests, then adds the word in korean. 

“swimming?” jaehyun repeats, almost getting the pronunciation right.

“yeah, swimming.” he throws his arm around jaehyun’s neck and pulls him in. “well done, zaixuan.”

jaehyun leans against the railing, a satisfied dimple poking into his cheek. sicheng resists the urge to kiss it.

 

 

the plan for the second and last night is to go out and drink, but as of the afternoon the details of the arrangement are still a bit fuzzy.

“is there even a club or anything around here?” yuta asks during lunch.

“i saw a pub,” ten says.

“great. so we’ll be the only ones under forty-five.”

a couple of hours later, they’re lying drying up on the beach when jaehyun’s ringtone starts playing, muffled through the fabric of his backpack. sicheng, who’s closest, rolls over and digs it out, finding youngho’s caller id on the screen.

he swipes the call in. “hey, it’s sicheng.”

“oh, hey,” youngho says. “are jaehyun and yuta with you?”

jaehyun sits up, looking at him.

“yeah.”

“put me on speaker.”

sicheng pushes himself up and taps the button, turning up the volume with his thumb. “it’s youngho-hyung.”

“what’s up?” yuta asks, leaning closer.

“i’ve received a proposition,” starts youngho’s voice.

“wow, good going, hyung,” jaehyun says, grinning.

“not like that,” youngho says patiently. “the girls asked if we wanna hang out with them later. drink some beer at the beach or something, just casual.”

“oh,” jaehyun says. he looks from yuta to sicheng, then back down at the phone. “okay.”

“yeah, sounds cool,” yuta says.

“sicheng?” youngho asks.

“yeah, sure,” sicheng says.

“cool, i’ll let them know,” youngho says. “later, then.”

 

 

“hey, we’re heading out,” youngho says when sicheng comes back to their room in the evening. “but you guys can come later. pick up some drinks on the way, yeah?”

sicheng takes a quick shower and pulls on some jeans shorts and a clean t-shirt, then wanders up to the third floor and knocks on jaehyun’s and yuta’s door. 

jaehyun opens to let him in. the double bed stands undone, some clothes thrown over the messy sheets. yuta stands shirtless in the bathroom, doing something with his hair.

“so what's it like bunking with yuta?” sicheng asks jaehyun, sinking down on the foot-end of the mattress.

something dark comes over jaehyun’s face. “the worst. he’s not exactly a calm sleeper.“

sicheng laughs. “i know, right?”

yuta pokes his head out to give them a dry look. “you're not so great either,” he tells jaehyun. “his body heat is off the charts, it’s like lying next to a radiator. i don’t know how you put up with it,” he adds to sicheng.

sicheng shrugs.

coming out from the nearby grocery store, they follow the road till it swerves off inland, then cross through the bushes down to the beach.

“did he say where, exactly?”

sicheng pulls out his phone to check the text youngho sent. “no, just at the south end. _keep walking and you’ll find us._ ”

they shuffle on through the sand, the bottles clinking in the plastic bag in sicheng’s hand. the sun hangs low over the mountains. the beach is almost empty now, save from some teenagers splashing around in the calm waters and a couple sitting entwined to watch the horizon. 

they’ve come almost to the end where the beach tapers off into a thin, rocky tail without any sight of their friends. a tongue of boulders and bushes jut out from the trees and now sicheng hears voices and laughs. they come around it, finding ten and youngho and the girls sitting spread out over two blankets in the sand.

“finally!” calls one of the girls at the sight of them, making the others laugh. 

jieqiong waves at him, and sicheng walks over to sit down next to her. jaehyun heads over to youngho’s side, yuta ending up somewhere in the middle. 

the girl next to jieqiong scoots closer to them. it’s the short one from the first time. “hey, we haven’t talked,” she says, grinning at sicheng. “what’s your name again?”

“sicheng,” sicheng says.

“si-cheng?” she repeats, carefully articulated to get it right.

“yeah.” he gives her a smile.

“cool, i’m yebin.” she reaches out a hand over jieqiong’s lap, and he takes it. “we really should…” she continues, then shifts around so she's perched on her heels. “hey, guys,” she calls, voice raised. “we should do a name round.” she points at jaehyun, sitting at the end of the formation. “you go first.”

jaehyun chuckles but complies, and the rest follow in a dutiful kindergarten fashion.

“you want a drink?” jieqiong asks sicheng. “we’ve got soda too.”

“thanks,” sicheng says and grabs a can of beer. 

“what have you guys been up to today?”

jieqiong is easy to talk to. her korean is near perfect but she still slips into mandarin once in a while, for a joke or piece of weird slang. she has a cute face with large doe-eyes and an easy smile. she wears her hair out, jet-black even when dry, and a touch of red lipstick. 

of the other two, minkyung, with long hair and wispy bangs, seems to be the more quiet out of the bunch. kyungwon has a short bob, a mischievous grin and something dangerous in her eyes.

“so do you guys have girlfriends or?” kyungwon asks, sipping from her beer.

yuta chuckles. “nah, we’re all gay as hell.” 

jaehyun coughs quietly into his drink. 

yuta points a thumb in youngho’s direction. “except johnny-boy, he’s the token straight friend.”

“and he’s single,” ten adds, helpfully.

“oh,” yebin says. “do you have boyfriends, then?”

ten shakes his head. sicheng notes with a flash of dread how yuta’s gaze casually pauses on his face for a moment before drifting on. 

“not at the moment, no. how about you?” yuta says. “boyfriends? or girlfriends?”

there is some head-shaking between them, then they all glance in minkyung’s direction, grinning cheekily.

minkyung looks between them, eyes widened. “it’s not like that!” she tries.

yebin laughs. “it’s complicated.”

“oh.” youngho grins at her. “let’s hear it.”

minkyung shrugs. “we hang out and hook up sometimes but, nothing happens, you know. so, no, i don’t have a boyfriend.”

“have you tried talking to him?” yuta asks. “communication is key, etcetera.”

minkyung makes a little grimace. “i’m not sure he’s the talking type,” she says, making her friends laugh.

sicheng turns his head and looks out over the water, taking a sip from his beer. the sun has set behind them, painting the thin clouds spread over the sky in a peachy color. in reflects in the small ripples rolling over the surface, making it shift in pink and lavender blue. far away, the horizon cuts through, splitting the world in two.

his eyes wander in and happen to land on jaehyun, sitting closest to the water with a bottle in his hand. he meets sicheng’s eyes, mouth spreading in a little smile. sicheng feels himself flash a grin back and looks down.

“we should play spin the bottle,” yebin says suddenly.

jieqiong slaps her on the shoulder. “they just said they’re gay, you idiot.”

“it’s okay,” ten says merrily. “we don’t mind kissing girls.”

“oh. so you’re in?”

they look around at each other. jaehyun glances at sicheng again, but looks away after a moment. yuta’s grinning. jieqiong turns to sicheng, and he gives her a shrug-nod.

“okay,” youngho says. “if you’re all up for it.”

they rearrange into a circle, yebin and minkyung flattening a patch of sand in the middle and spreading one of the blankets on top.

“okay, rules,” yebin says, sitting down on her knees. “this is how we do it. bottle picks the player, and the spinner decides what they're gonna do and who they're gonna do it with. if you can't or won't do it, you both have to drink. then it's your turn to spin. sounds good?”

“any rules against guy-on-guy or girl-on-girl?” 

“nope, anything goes.”

“okay. who’s first?”

“i’ll go,” kyungwon says, holding up an empty bottle. she leans over on a hand and gives it a spin on the blanket. it catches on a lump of sand underneath, rolls down and stops, pointing at ten. “okay.” kyungwon grins. “i’ll start small. kiss yuta.”

ten gives a cackle and leans towards yuta over youngho’s lap, who sits between them. they exchange a loud smack on the lips and then sit back again. 

“so, my turn?” ten asks, reaching for the bottle.

they play for a while, everybody laughing and getting steadily tipsier. yebin tells kyungwon to motorboat minkyung, completed under squeaks from the latter. jieqiong gets told to kiss sicheng, and leans over and gives him a peck on the cheek. sicheng is ordered to spank ten, walking over to ten who readily gets on all four, making annoying noises at each half-hearted hit until sicheng starts slapping him over the head instead. yuta tells youngho to kiss jaehyun, both of them squeezing their eyes shut and exchanging the bro-iest peck in the history of time. yuta and kyungwon have a brief but intense encounter, all teeth and theatrical growls.

minkyung’s hair smells of coconut shampoo. youngho’s lips are surprisingly soft. yebin has tiny freckles on her nose. sicheng wipes lipgloss off his mouth, not sure who it came from.

yebin has just completed the task of grabbing youngho’s ass, returning to her spot and leaning over give the bottle a twist, and when it stops it points towards jaehyun.

“okay, jaehyun, you kiss--” she starts, eyes running along the circle, “--sicheng.”

sicheng freezes.

jaehyun chuckles and gets up, casually walking around the outside of the circle to get to sicheng’s side.

sicheng’s not sure if he didn’t see this coming, probably due to being a total idiot. or if he did, and just expected to be able to handle it like a normal human being. his mind is foggy with alcohol and he wishes he had a moment to think about this, just a second, but everything is happening so quickly, jaehyun has already reached him and sicheng feels how his breath has gotten stuck somewhere in his throat.

jaehyun kneels nexts to him but sicheng doesn’t turn towards him, like he should, doesn’t even look at him. suddenly he feels all the eyes on him, the attention focused fully in his direction. his pulse starts tapping quickly up and down his neck.

jaehyun laughs again, reaching out a hand towards him. sicheng ducks away from it, eyes on the ground, and jaehyun immediately falls quiet.

“sicheng?” he says, voice low.

the giggles and chatting around them has also silenced.

 _what’s wrong?_ says someone, and _come on, it’s just a game,_ someone else, and _everybody else has done it,_ and _you’re close, right?_ and _just peck him on the cheek._

sicheng looks down, shoulders pulled up. jaehyun’s still next to him, hands limp in his lap.

“ooh-kay, time’s up,” youngho’s voice cuts through the air suddenly, loud and firm. “jaehyun, get your ass back here.” sicheng peeks up and meets youngho’s gaze, seeing the little wrinkle between his brows, but then he looks away and it’s gone.

jaehyun walks back, sinking down into his spot again, laughing awkwardly when youngho shoves a bottle into his hand. 

“penalty. bottoms up,” youngho orders happily. he changes the subject, cracks a joke, making everybody laugh and forget that sicheng was also supposed to drink.

jaehyun spins and the game continues for a while, but sicheng notes how he doesn’t get picked for any adventurous dares. he cracks open another can and takes a large swig. eventually, the turn has come back to ten. he spins and the bottleneck points unambiguously at yuta.

ten doesn’t miss a beat. “make out with sicheng.”

a moment of silence falls over the ring. jaehyun’s frowning, looking like he’s about to protest. 

“come on,” says yebin. “he didn’t want to.”

“yeah,” someone agrees.

“pick something else,” youngho says.

yuta and ten both look to sicheng who empties the last of his drink, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and says; “okay.”

he keeps his eyes away from jaehyun’s corner of the circle while yuta saunters over with a fat grin on his face. the others scoot away to make room for them as sicheng shifts over to his knees and yuta gets down in front of him, half in his lap. all sicheng has time to register is the smell of alcohol between them and the full row of yuta’s glinting teeth before he’s grabbed by the neck and yuta descends on him. 

kissing yuta wet and weird and rather messy, but also kind of fun because they’re both pretty drunk and yuta is as enthusiastic as ever. he sucks on sicheng’s lips and uses too much tongue but sicheng knows that it’s a show, that yuta is performing. he goes along with it, tugs yuta close and licks against his mouth, trying not to laugh at the cheers and shouts and applauds they’re getting.

they break apart with a snort, yuta plopping down in the sand next to him, laughing. sicheng laughs too, wiping his mouth again. yuta reaches for the bottle and sicheng’s eyes shoot straight to jaehyun; can’t stop them, can’t help himself.

jaehyun’s face is turned down but there’s a twist of something on his mouth, almost like a grin, fingers playing in the sand. sicheng suddenly feels breathless.

they wrap up shortly after that, because it’s getting too dark to see much, gathering all bottles and cans. some of them decide to head into town and find a place to hang.

“sicheng, you coming?” ten asks as they're walking back up the beach.

sicheng pretends to think about it. his legs feel a bit numb, but not from the booze. “nah,” he says. “i think i’m just gonna head back.”

“jaehyun, what about you?” youngho asks.

sicheng glances at jaehyun, walking on youngho’s other side with the bag of empty cans. “thanks, but i’ll pass this time.”

they split up outside the hostel. yuta, ten and youngho move on with yebin and kyungwon while minkyung and jieqiong wave them off and head inside, but when sicheng looks around jaehyun is gone. 

he lingers awkwardly in the parking lot for a minute before going inside. pauses in the staircase, the idea of heading up to the third floor passing through his head, then gets off at the second landing.

the room is empty and quiet. sicheng sits down on his bed. 

he falls asleep before the others come back.


	11. Chapter 11

sicheng wakes up when youngho’s phone alarm goes off the next morning. he lies still, facing the wall, pretending to sleep through the sounds of them getting up and getting dressed, ten asking youngho in a whisper whether they should wake sicheng up and youngho telling him to let him be.

the door closes and locks behind them, and after a minute sicheng rolls over to his back, rubbing a palm over his face.

he’s still lying there some half hour later when he hears steps coming to a stop outside and a key jiggling in the lock again, but now he doesn’t bother to keep up the charade.

the one strolling in, however, is yuta.

sicheng frowns. “where did you get that?” he asks, nodding at the key in yuta’s hand.

“good morning to you too,” yuta says, closing the door behind him. “i borrowed it from ten.” he walks over to take a seat at the edge of sicheng’s bed. sicheng groans and pulls his knees up to his chest, curling into a ball on his side.

“hey. are you okay?” yuta asks, face half concerned and half amused.

“yeah,” sicheng mutters.

“didn’t drink too much?”

“no.”

“so. what was that, last night?” yuta asks with the gentle tone of someone talking to a kid. “you think you maybe overreacted a little? with jaehyun?”

sicheng grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “not helpful, hyung.” 

yuta tilts his head to the side. “wanna talk about it?”

“i do not,” sicheng says. then he turns to look up at yuta properly. “also, just so you know. you and me - that’s never going to happen again.”

yuta cackles. “i know, i know.” he pats sicheng’s butt over the sheets. “come on. let’s get some breakfast.”

sicheng doesn’t make any effort to move. he looks blankly across the room, lower lip caught between his teeth, then asks; “where’s jaehyun?”

yuta shrugs. “i don’t know. he was gone when i woke up.”

“was he with you guys last night? after i left?”

“no. why?”

“nothing,” sicheng says and sits up.

 

 

he’s on the way back up to his room after eating, coming around the corner from the staircase when he almost walks right into someone.

“shit, i’m sorry,” he blurts, jumping aside, about to apologize again for cursing when he sees that it’s jieqiong.

“it’s okay,” she says, laughing. she steps back to a normal conversational distance and grins at him. “hey. i was kind of hoping to run into you.”

“huh?” sicheng says.

“we’re gonna take a detour to do some sightseeing so we’re leaving early,” she says, waving her thumb in the direction of their room. then she pauses, maybe hesitating, but only for a second. “do you want my number? in case you ever wanna hang out or something. as friends, obviously,” she adds quickly.

“oh,” sicheng says. “sure.” he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and opens a new contact. she taps in her digits and name in hangul, then returns it. he saves the info and exits the window before slipping the cell back, looking up to find her watching him with a soft sort of smile. 

“you like him, don’t you?” she says in mandarin.

a small chill runs down sicheng’s neck. “what?”

she cocks her head, like he’s just playing dumb. “don’t let it slip away.” she gives him a pat on the shoulder in passing. “bye then, unless you walk into me again.”

sicheng covers the rest of the corridor on stiff legs. thankfully, their room is still empty. he brushes his teeth and tugs a comb through his hair a few times, then gets his phone out again and takes a breath before calling jaehyun. he paces between the window and the door, counting seven tones before it goes to voicemail. he cuts it off before the _hello this is jung jaehyun i’m not available right now but please leave a message_ has finished playing.

not bothering to change, sicheng steps into his shoes again and goes out. the weather’s nice today too, the town as postcard-esque as ever. he walks down to the small harbour, crossing the little square with the information board and ice cream kiosk, looking over the array of boats rocking gently in the glittering water. follows the dock southwards till it ends, then climbs down the slope to the beach. 

he walks along the waterline where the sand is firm, just out of range for the waves rolling up and reaching for his feet. makes a detour around a couple of kids who are building a sandcastle with great concentration and immediately gets sand in his shoes. he casually sweeps his gaze over the beach and the waters, squinting at the people moving or lying around until he spots a familiar figure, sitting with his legs stretched out in the sun.

“hey, jaehyun,” he calls, heading over.

jaehyun blinks and looks around, eyes landing on sicheng. he’s leaned back on his hands, swim trunks wet, drops of water still scattered over his skin.

“thought i’d find you here,” sicheng says, trying a smile. 

jaehyun doesn’t grin back. he looks out over the water again, eyes half squinted against the sunlight. he doesn’t have a towel with him, just his t-shirt and shoes lying beside him in the sand. 

sicheng sinks down next to him. “you didn’t answer your phone.”

“i left it in my room.”

“oh,” sicheng says. “have you been here long?”

“a while.”

“did you wake up early?”

“not really.”

“have you had breakfast?”

“yeah.”

sicheng wraps his arms around his knees, toes curling against the soles of his sneakers. he opens his mouth, then closes it again. “where did you go last night?”

“what?” jaehyun says, looking over at him finally, but only for a second.

“when we came back from the beach.” sicheng licks his lips. “you said you weren’t gonna go with the others but then you... disappeared.”

“oh,” jaehyun says. “i went to recycle the cans and stuff.”

“at nine pm?”

jaehyun shrugs. “why not. i figured i might as well get it done.”

sicheng rubs his thumb over his nails. he feels a need to keep jaehyun talking, for whatever reason. “where did you go after that?”

“back to the hostel.”

“what did you do all night?”

jaehyun snorts, but the sound is harsh and unamused. “what’s this, an interrogation?” he glances at sicheng again. “i didn’t do anything. just chilled for a while, then went to bed.”

“why didn’t you come down to my room?” sicheng asks, allowing himself the risk to sound whiny and annoying.

“wasn’t feeling like it,” jaehyun says. “you didn’t come to mine either.”

“well, i,” sicheng starts, then stops because he doesn’t know what to say. why didn't he? what was he expecting? maybe he just didn’t know what to expect.

sicheng looks down at the little dunes of soft sand. should he apologize? has he even done anything he should apologize for?

“are you mad at me?”

jaehyun sighs. “i’m not mad. i’m just… tired.” he folds his legs in and bends forward, brushing the sand off his hands.

“tired?” sicheng repeats, voice small.

jaehyun rubs over his brows. “it’s a lot of back and forth with you, sicheng,” he says. “i never know where you stand. everything just has to be so damn complicated these days. i’m tired of it.” 

when sicheng doesn't say anything he pushes himself to his feet and walks back down to the water. sicheng watches him wade out and dive in, his head and shoulders cutting through the surface; slipping under, and appearing again. then he gets up and walks quickly back up the beach.

he spends the day with yuta and ten, trying to keep his smiles from looking strained. jaehyun manages yeti-levels of elusiveness, seemingly incredibly busy elsewhere. in the afternoon they go for a final swim before leaving, but sicheng isn’t really in the mood.

“i’ll head back and start packing up,” he tells ten after a while, moving towards the shoreline.

ten stops trying to wrestle yuta down under the surface. “okay,” he says. “i’ll come up soon.”

sicheng drapes his towel over his shoulders and bunches up his stuff under his arm, walking barefoot till he reaches the road. when he gets back to the room he finds youngho standing by the bed, folding his stuff into his bag.

“oh, hi,” he says. “you guys done soon?”

sicheng nods. “ten is on his way.” he turns his back to youngho, stripping down and drying off properly before pulling on some fresh clothes. 

“hey, sicheng,” youngho says suddenly. the tone of his voice makes sicheng stop with a tank in his hands and turn around to look at him. “are you okay?”

“uh,” sicheng says. “why wouldn’t i be?”

youngho lifts one shoulder. “i was just thinking. you seem a little…” he finishes the sentence with another shrug. “is something going on, or?”

sicheng clenches his teeth together and prays that youngho doesn’t add _with jaehyun?_ “no, not really,” he says, ducking his head and pulling the shirt over it. “i’m fine.”

“okay,” youngho says.

they wait by the car after checking out, doors open to air it out before the ride. after some ten minutes jaehyun comes over the parking lot with yuta in tow. he passes sicheng without looking at him, walking straight up to chuck his bag in the trunk.

“i can take the first shift if you want,” he says, moving towards youngho on the driver’s side. 

“are you sure?” youngho asks. “you said you’re tired.”

jaehyun shrugs. “i’m okay.”

it’s almost dark when they get back to the city.

“you can drop us off at sicheng’s,” jaehyun says. sicheng looks up, throwing a quick glance at him over ten’s head. “i’ll walk from there.”

youngho pulls into the back street, idling while they get their bags out and wave goodbye. sicheng lingers on the curb as the car drives off and disappears around the corner.

jaehyun adjusts the strap of his duffel. “well,” he says. “bye.” 

sicheng doesn’t call him back.

 

 

sicheng spends most of thursday in the campus library to catch up on his reading, coming home only to eat and change before biking back for dance practice. most of friday also passes without a word from jaehyun, not even a gaming invite, and now sicheng is running out of things to occupy himself with. but, sicheng reminds himself, jaehyun’s working. he had to switch some shifts for the trip. he's probably busy.

when evening comes he’s restless. he opens their text convo for the third time in the last hour. bites his lip, only retyping once before pressing send.

_going for a run, wanna join?_

three minutes later jaehyun texts back; _ok, give me 15_

sicheng changes and dutifully waits a bit before jogging over. he leans against the garage wall, trying to ignore the slight tightness in his stomach. it doesn’t take long before the door opens and jaehyun comes out.

“hey,” sicheng says, straightening up. 

jaehyun’s in shorts and a sleeveless tee, hair hanging limp over his forehead. his shoulders seem to sag a bit and there’s something dull over his eyes, (or maybe sicheng is imagining things,) but he gives sicheng a little smile, walking up to him. “hey.”

they pause there, standing in the narrow pathway between the buildings, looking at each other. sicheng’s hands hang by his thighs, fingers scraping over the fabric of his pants.

“shall we?” jaehyun asks.

“yeah,” sicheng says quickly and spins around.

they set off down the street, falling into a jog.

“where do you wanna go?”

“let’s head down to the river.”

sicheng nods. they turn right at the next corner. despite his worn appearance, jaehyun has no trouble keeping a pace. sicheng falls back to allow for a car to pass, then takes a couple of long strides to catch up. “how was work?” he asks, already a little winded.

jaehyun jerks one shoulder in a shrug. “it was pretty chill. i got off at four.”

“you have a shift tomorrow too, right?”

“yeah, but i’m not opening.”

after a couple of minutes they reach the larger road following the little tributary running south between the districts. they head for a crossing and then continue over the strip of lawn down to the bikeway on the riverbank.

dusk is falling, the sky a patchy mix of orange and deep blue. the street lamps on the opposite shore reflect in the water, drawing strings of pale light over the calmly flowing surface. groups of teenagers and college guys play on or hang around the couple of basketball and soccer fields squeezed in along the road. tall apartment complexes rise in the distance, randomly dotted with lit windows.

sicheng quickly finds the sweet spot - his legs working mechanically, lungs pumping in and out, runner’s high drowning out exhaustion and tension from his muscles and clearing his mind. he allows himself to glance sideways once in a while, peeking at the profile of jaehyun’s reddening face.

they slow to a stop when they’ve come about halfway of their usual route. sicheng leans forward, hands on his knees, panting until the stream of adrenaline coursing through him starts calming down. the skin of his forehead burns hot, sweat pouring out in trickles. he pulls the bottom of his tank up and wipes his face with it, not bothering to care about the dark blotch it leaves.

jaehyun pats over the pockets of his shorts, breathing through his mouth. “do you have any change?” he asks. “i’m super thirsty.”

sicheng pulls down the zippers of his pockets. in the right one there’s just his keys, but in the other he finds a folded and crumpled 5000-won bill, looking like it’s been through a round in the washing machine.

they cross the road and soon find a convenience store. sicheng grabs a bottle of still water from the coolers. jaehyun trails after him up to the register and thanks the cashier with a smile. then they walk back down to the bank and take a seat at the bottom of the grassy slope.

they pass the bottle back and forth till sicheng starts drying up, the tank sticking damp and cold to his back. water clucks softly against the rocks lining the canal. now and again the sound of feet and voices pass by above.

“hey,” jaehyun says. “can i ask you something?”

sicheng pauses with his fingers in his bangs, glancing over at him. “okay.”

jaehyun looks out over the dark water, his mouth pressing together for a moment before opening. “have you been with yuta a lot?”

sicheng doesn’t get it at first. they hang out all the time? jaehyun knows that. “been with?”

“yeah, like.” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “hooking up?”

the very idea is so bizarre that sicheng starts laughing, but quickly shuts himself up when seeing jaehyun’s expression and realizing that the question is serious. “what? why would i have?”

jaehyun shrugs. “well, i mean,” he starts. he looks down at the bottle in his hands, fingers starting to pick at the corner of the label. “it’s been going on for a while, right? since you said you fooled around with him before.”

“huh?” sicheng says. it takes a moment for the dots to connect in his head. oh, _that_. he clears his throat. “look. about that…”

jaehyun turns to look at him. sicheng swallows.

“i lied about that. i never made out with yuta.”

jaehyun laughs, half frowning. “i was literally there.”

sicheng groans. “no, i mean. the first time. when i said that i had. i made it up.”

“for real?”

“yeah.”

the wrinkle still sits between jaehyun’s brows, but he doesn’t look angry, mostly amused. “why did you do that?”

sicheng shrugs. “i don’t know,” he admits.

jaehyun snorts and chuckles, and it makes sicheng crack up as well. he rolls the cap off the bottle and tips it back against his lips. swallows and wipes his mouth.

“so,” he asks.

“so, what?”

“you and yuta?”

sicheng grimaces, face scrunching up. “fuck, jaehyun, do you honestly think i’d be into him?” he pulls his knees up and rakes his hand through his hair. “the time at the beach was the first time - and the last, and only time. there’s nothing like that between us. we’re just friends.”

jaehyun hums. “you and i are friends.”

sicheng feels a flash of heat on his face. “that’s different.” 

“how so?” jaehyun asks, and now he’s grinning.

“it just is.”

“maybe he’s into you?”

sicheng shakes his head. “trust me,” he says. “he just wanted to cross me off his list.”

jaehyun laughs again. “so you’ve never slept with him?” 

“god, no.”

jaehyun looks down, knocking the half-empty bottle against his shin. his face is in shadows but sicheng can still see the big grin sitting on it. “okay.”

they cross over at the next bridge, jogging a bit more before walking most of the way back, chatting. when they approach jaehyun’s block jaehyun nudges him on the arm.

“can i shower at your place?”

“sure.”

jaehyun nods. “i’m just gonna pick up some stuff.” they turn the corner and head back up the street towards jaehyun’s house. “you can come inside if you want,” jaehyun adds before slipping in through the gate.

sicheng shakes his head. “i’ll wait here.” he hangs back outside the garage, rocking on the balls of his feet. a couple of minutes later he hears the door fall shut and jaehyun reappears at the entrance of the alley, his backpack hanging over one shoulder.

he smiles again, and this time it reaches his eyes. “let’s go.”

once he's inside the door and out of his shoes sicheng walks into the living room, dropping his keys and the change on the coffee table.

jaehyun follows him, flapping his elbows to get his arms away from his pits. “i’m all clammy,” he says with a grimace. “is it okay if i shower first?”

sicheng nods. “go ahead.”

jaehyun helps himself to a towel from the closet and slips into the bathroom. sicheng grabs his phone and sinks down in the couch, thumb habitually running over the screen, but soon starts spacing out. his eyes sail up, once, and then again, and then he finds himself staring blankly at the wall above the tv.

he sits frozen like that for a moment, phone forgotten in his hand. then he puts it down, gets up and slowly walks through the room and down the hall to the bathroom door. he can faintly hear the sound of the water running, splashing down against the floor. 

sicheng looks at the door handle. slowly lifts his hand. lets it rest on the handle for a moment before pressing down.

the door opens, smooth and silent. he pulls it towards him. the shower curtain is drawn, steam flowing out over the top. sicheng steps inside and slides the door shut again. the air in there is warm and damp, smelling gently of soap. quietly, he takes off his clothes and sneaks in behind the curtain.

jaehyun must have heard the rustle over the running water because he twists his head and startles. “dude,” he says, turning around and putting a hand over his chest. “you scared me.”

“sorry,” sicheng says, grinning cheekily. he takes half a step forward and jaehyun moves to the side, switching with him to let him get under the spray. he tips his head back, letting the water soak his hair.

“if you wanted to go first you could have said so,” jaehyun says, wiping off his face.

sicheng shrugs, just grinning again.

they circle in and out under the stream, taking turns. sicheng squeezes out a handful of shower gel and rubs it over his armpits and chest, then pauses his hands at his hips. maybe it shouldn’t feel awkward to wash your privates in front of someone who has already seen everything there is to see of you, but sicheng’s brain isn’t always rational when it comes to jaehyun.

possibly jaehyun picks up on his hesitation because he grins and chooses that moment to turn away, seemingly finding something interesting at the juncture between the wall and the ceiling. sicheng stifles a snort, quickly scrubbing himself down before nudging jaehyun to switch.

he has turned around to rinse shampoo from his hair, eyes shut against the water, when he suddenly feels jaehyun’s fingers run over his shoulder blade. 

“you’ve tanned.”

sicheng bends his neck trying to catch a look of his own shoulder. there is a pale area where the wide strap of his tank usually sits, the blurry line fading out down his chest. he turns back around to jaehyun smiling at him.

“it suits you.”

“you have, too,” sicheng says, poking at the bronzed skin of jaehyun’s bicep.

“not as much as you.” he holds his up forearm along sicheng’s, elbow to wrist. sicheng’s is a shade or two darker. “you look good.”

inevitably, the point comes when they’re as clean as they can get. they linger anyway, letting the warm water run over their skin. sicheng pushes his hair back over his head, catching jaehyun’s eyes sliding up and down his body. it’s not the first time, but it’s not like sicheng isn’t looking as well.

jaehyun’s dick has decided to stiffen a bit, just in case. he looks at sicheng’s face with the hint of a smile, eyes careful and searching. 

they circle, and circle.

the smile twitches wide when sicheng finally takes the step forward and kisses him. 

at first it’s light and fumbling. jaehyun’s hands come on his hips, skim up to his waist, splaying there. his lips are wet, tasting sweet of water.

it doesn’t take long before they’re making out. sicheng reaches a hand back and finds the knob of the faucet, cutting the water off, the sounds of their lips strong in the sudden silence. the air in the small space is heavy with steam, the heat rolling chills over sicheng’s skin. he lets his hand slip between their bodies, fingers lightly wrapping around jaehyun’s dick. jaehyun’s mouth goes limp for a second.

he makes a small noise of surprise when sicheng grabs his hips and makes him step back, pushing him up against the wall. they exchange a quick grin before sicheng fits their lips together again, slick tongue meeting his. his hand finds its way back to jaehyun’s dick, standing tall between them. he gives it a few tugs, then sinks down to his knees.

jaehyun’s hand follows him down, running over the shell of his ear. sicheng presses a couple of sloppy kisses to his hip and upper thigh before moving to his shaft. he can feel it already - the phantom shape of jaehyun in his mouth - and his balls clench with want for it, for feeling it for real, but he’s not in a hurry. he glances up, lips hovering, seeing jaehyun look down at him with dark and focused eyes, seeing his chest move up and down in deep and measured breaths.

there’s a weird sense of relief when he finally slides him into his mouth, thick and warm against his tongue. a hot wave of arousal rolls from sicheng’s stomach to his crotch. jaehyun gives a thick grunt, sinking back against the tiles behind him, his hand moving up into sicheng’s wet hair. sicheng feels rather than sees a small twitch, like a shiver, in his thigh. he slides his hand up it, thumb running over the sensitive skin on the inside, up to the wet hair at the base of jaehyun’s cock. lets his fingers curl around it, jerking him with short strokes while sucking on the head, jaehyun’s groans echoing slightly between the walls.

he’s only been going for a minute or two when jaehyun grabs his arms and pulls him up.

“already?” sicheng asks, only half teasing, but jaehyun shakes his head, giving him a short grin before pulling him in and kissing him again. he curls an arm around sicheng’s neck, dropping the other hand to sicheng’s dick, untouched and sensitive. sicheng makes a high-pitched noise against him, propping his arm up against the wall to support himself. it takes a moment for him to remember to reciprocate.

jaehyun keeps him close, hooked by his elbow, noses brushing, his lips constantly seeking sicheng’s. when he nears his hand falls away, darting up to dig its nails into sicheng’s shoulder. sicheng mouths at his cheek, pressing against him, working him a little faster.

“fuck,” jaehyun croaks, “sicheng.”

he comes with sicheng’s lips on his neck, a choked noise right by sicheng’s ear, and sicheng can feel him, can feel it over jaehyun’s whole body - the way he tenses, the stutter of his hips, his chest caving, his fingers curled in sicheng’s hair.

sicheng stays put till he’s through it, still locked in place by jaehyun’s arms. after a couple of seconds his hands glide down to sicheng’s neck, shifting him to rest his forehead against his own. his eyes are closed; breathing audibly through his nose.

“how are you doing?” sicheng mumbles, unable to keep a grin off his face.

jaehyun chuckles, but it comes out a little shaky. “i’m fine,” he says. “i’m great.”


	12. Chapter 12

“so has jaehyun finished moping about you and me sucking face yet?” yuta asks on sunday.

sicheng, who’s putting a piece of fried pork in his mouth, gives a choked cough and almost drops it on his plate. they’re having dinner at sicheng’s, sitting cross-legged on the rug on either side of the coffee table. “he wasn’t moping,” he says once he has wiped sweet-and-sour sauce off his chin. “but yes. we worked it out.”

“worked it out how?”

sicheng’s mouth purses. he’s not sure he’s gonna like where this conversation is going. “we… talked,” he says vaguely.

“talked about what?” yuta presses, before stuffing a bundle of meat and veggies into his face.

sicheng sighs, then raises his head. if they’re gonna do this they might as well do it properly. “okay, so,” he starts. “he asked me about you. if we… have a thing going. and when i told him there’s nothing between us he seemed… i don’t know… happy.”

yuta snorts loudly. he wipes his mouth and swallows, snickering. “he did, huh?”

“the ruse is off, by the way,” sicheng adds. “i told him i lied about you the first time.”

yuta’s eyebrows inch up. “oh? how did he take it?”

sicheng shrugs. “he was okay with it.”

yuta puts down his chopsticks. “okay, so, let me get this straight.” he holds out his hands on his left side. “you make out with me. jaehyun pissed.” he moves his hands to the right. “you tell him i’m not a threat. jaehyun happy.”

sicheng makes a strangled noise. “i know what this looks like, okay,” he hisses. “i’m not an idiot. it’s just--”

“just, what?”

sicheng looks down, poking his sticks around in his rice. “he said… he said he’s tired of it. that it’s all too complicated and, like, he doesn’t wanna deal with it. and then he didn’t talk to me for three days. what does that mean?”

yuta hums. “it means he has feelings for you.”

sicheng looks up at him, not caring that his eyes are probably wide and vulnerable. this is the idea he has been mulling over the last two days, but not really dared to believe in. “does it?”

yuta’s mouth twists in a half-smile, almost gentle. “it’s a good thing he got pissed off, you know,” he says, picking up a piece of pork and dipping it. “would you rather he didn’t give a shit?”

sicheng drops his head. “i guess not.”

they have a couple of bites in silence. 

“so?” yuta asks then. “what now?”

sicheng sends him a guarded glance. “what do you mean?”

“this is the part where you confess your love for each other in the rain and run off and elope, or something?” he grins obnoxiously, left cheek bulging.

sicheng flips him off over the table.

yuta cracks up, managing to swallow between giggles. “sorry, but seriously. when are you gonna talk to him? because you’re going to talk to him, right?”

sicheng groans. “even if you’re right, it’s not that fucking simple.”

“why not?”

sicheng sighs again. “it’s… we’re good... like this,” he starts, fumbling for words to put on that nagging feeling in the back of his head. “we know that. we’ve been doing this thing for a long time and it works. what if, if we try to be a _couple_ , it doesn’t work out.” he runs a hand through his hair. “what if we just break up after two months and then we can’t go back to the way things were.”

“aren’t you optimistic.”

“i’m serious. when does shit like that ever end well?” sicheng shifts, pulling his knee up to his chest. “like when ten was dating yugyeom. remember? he was hanging out with us all the time. they said they were gonna stay friends when they broke up but they never talk anymore and we haven’t seen him since.” he takes one of his chopsticks and stabs it through a slice of mushroom. “if we get serious and it fails it’s gonna fuck up the whole group dynamic. we’re gonna have to split you guys between us like a fucking custody battle.” he shoves the mushroom into his mouth. “i would get you and doyoung and he’d get the rest.”

yuta stares at him, eyebrows raised. “you’ve really thought about this, huh?”

“i’m just saying, this shit changes things. _feelings_ and whatnot, change things. once you go there… there are things that can’t be undone.”

yuta chews with a thoughtful wrinkle on his forehead. “what’s actually going to change, though?” he asks. “he’s practically living here as it is. neither of you is seeing anyone else. the main difference is that you could be honest with each other and not have this…” he waves his finger in a rough circle-shape in sicheng’s direction. “...romantic tension drama fucking it up for you.”

sicheng grunts.

“you don’t have to make it some grand redefinition of your relationship or anything. just, like, _hey, i like you, let’s stop sleeping with other people_?” 

sicheng looks down, putting one arm around his leg. “i just,” he says, noting with a sting of embarrassment how small his voice sounds. “i just don’t want to ruin us. i don’t… want to lose him.”

yuta nods slowly. “i get that. but at this rate you two might crash and burn anyway.” he grins briefly when sicheng winces. “and second; can you do it? not say anything? just act natural and carry on as usual?”

sicheng squeezes his eyes shut, frowning. he has asked himself the same question and he’s already tired of it. “i don’t know.”

yuta cocks his head and helps himself to some more food, pouring a generous amount of sauce over it. “you keep talking about what you don’t want,” he continues then, pointing at sicheng with his chopsticks. “put it this way; what do you want?”

sicheng puts his chin on his knee. “i want… to be with him,” he says after a moment. “i just want to be with him.”

“that’s it?”

“well… yeah.”

yuta shrugs. “well, whatever works for you.”

 

 

jaehyun texts him late that night; _you still awake?_

sicheng, who was in the bathroom but heard the beep from the lounge, leaves his toothbrush hanging limp between his lips and taps in with his right thumb; _yea_

he slips the phone into the pocket of his shorts and barely makes it back to spit before it vibrates again.

_can i sleep over?_

sicheng looks at the screen, slowly putting the brush back into his mouth. he’s tired and a bit too sleepy for a booty call. but, he admits to himself, he would very much like to have jaehyun sleeping next to him in his bed tonight. 

_ok_

jaehyun’s at his door less than ten minutes later. he has a hoodie thrown over his tank, hanging low off his shoulders. his hair is damp, like he just showered, bangs falling over the rim of his glasses.

“hey,” he says, giving sicheng a sleepy grin.

“i was just going to bed,” sicheng says.

“cool.” jaehyun steps out of his shoes. “me too.”

sicheng giggles. “then why didn’t you?”

jaehyun shrugs. “felt like i’d rather be in your bed.”

“i should charge you rent.”

jaehyun flashes him a lazy dimple. “but you love having me here.” 

sicheng doesn’t dignify that with a protest. he slips into the bathroom again and when he comes out jaehyun is already comfortably stretched out on the inner half of the bed, sheet hiked up so his feet and shins lie naked in the warm evening air of the room. sicheng pulls off his sweat-shorts and tank, letting them join jaehyun’s clothes on the desk chair, and lies down next to him. he bunches his pillow up against the headboard and grabs his phone off the dresser. 

“hey, do you have time tomorrow?” jaehyun asks, tilting his head to look up at him.

“yeah, why?”

“you wanna come with me downtown? i need to buy some stuff.”

“okay.”

“afternoon? like, two-ish.”

“sure.”

they talk for a while, low murmurs and quiet laughs gradually growing slower and softer. when sicheng feels his eyelids starting to fall shut he twists around and reaches out to turn off the lights.

“g’night.”

“night,” comes jaehyun’s voice behind him, a couple of beats too late.

sicheng settles on his side, sighing quietly to himself as he feels his body relax, the velvety fingers of sleep already reaching for him. after a minute he feels jaehyun shift, making the mattress sink away beneath him. body heat molds against him; a chest against his back, an arm snaking up and coming to rest over his waist, a nose brushing against the curve of his shoulder.

“is this okay?” jaehyun mumbles, voice drowsy and clear at the same time.

sicheng stares out into the darkness. “yeah,” he whispers, “sure.”

soon jaehyun’s breathing slows into a steady, silent snoring, his warm exhales feathering down the skin of sicheng’s shoulder blade. it takes a long time for sicheng to fall asleep.

 

 

the automatic glass doors slide open with a faint sweeping sound barely audible over the blanket of city noises. a breeze of air-conditioning washes gently over sicheng's face as he trails in a couple of steps behind jaehyun. a podium with mannequins in flashy neon gym wear stands at the front of the store and forks the designated trail in two. sicheng slows down and lags behind even more as jaehyun heads for the wall of sneakers at the back corner. 

a strong smell of plastic and fresh rubber sits over the place. hidden speakers broadcast a peppy tune that sicheng suspects is going to give him a headache. he turns into a side aisle in the mens' section, eyes sailing blankly over the rows of tanks and athletic tees and football shorts, feet dragging behind him. 

it’s only been some half hour since they got off the subway so he has no reason to be tired already. they woke up pretty late; sicheng because jaehyun turned around, even though he’s not usually that easily stirred. they had breakfast on the couch in front of some sitcom rerun, not talking much. then jaehyun had some business to attend to and headed home. 

sicheng stops at a set of shelves displaying exercise equipment. picks up a 5-kilo dumbbell and straightens and curls his arm a couple of times, trying the weight of it on his bicep. 

he had felt relieved, he realizes, when jaehyun left. he had been sitting there, half a meter between them, chewing his cereal and unable to shake a vague discomfort. a sense of wrongness, like wearing an itchy and ill-fitting sweater. when he was alone again, it was as if he suddenly could breathe properly.

he startles a little when he realizes that someone's calling his name. he looks up and finds jaehyun standing a couple of meters away between low shelves of discounted trainers.

"sicheng?" he repeats, something like a wrinkle between his brows. he cocks his head, beckoning.

"uh," sicheng says. "sorry." he puts the dumbbell back and crosses over. 

jaehyun points down to his feet, the left one donning one of his old shoes, the other a shiny new one, white velcro straps crossing over the top of the lacing. "what do you think?"

sicheng gives them a once-over, then shrugs.

jaehyun's mouth tightens for a split second. "i think they look kinda cool," he continues, looking down and turning his foot this way and that. "but i dunno."

"they're fine," sicheng says and turns, wandering away again.

five minutes later jaehyun finds him in an aisle of hiking gear. he's sans a shoebox, hands shoved down in the pockets of his shorts. "let's go."

sicheng shuffles after him back towards the entrance.

"i'm hungry," jaehyun declares once they're back out on the street. "let's get something to eat."

 

 

it has clouded over since morning. the sky hangs grey and heavy above the city, as if pressing the air downwards, making it hot and thick to breathe. a sad excuse for a wind tugs meekly at the dark-green leaves of the bushes on the slope.

sicheng sits on the third, jaehyun on the second step of the large stone stairs leading down to a park with a little playground. the swings and jungle gym are swarmed with kids, high-pitched shouts and giggles reaching all the way up to the top of the staircase. halfway down a young couple sit close together, sharing an ice cream cone and exchanging sugary smiles.

sicheng looks down at his lap, fingers toying with the straw of his empty milkshake cup, slowly swirling around the melted remains at the bottom. suddenly he feels jaehyun's hand on his nape, warm and slightly sticky, fingers stretching out over the side of his neck.

"what's wrong?" jaehyun asks, voice quiet and soft. "tell me."

stiffness runs down sicheng's back like a fever chill. a thumb strokes slowly at his hairline, from the top of his spine to just behind his ear. he can hear every one of jaehyun’s breaths, like the slow beats of a ticking clock; one, two, three, four. sicheng's fingers tighten around the cup.

"i gotta go," he says and shoots to his feet.

"what?" jaehyun looks up at him, eyebrows drawn together. "where?"

sicheng swings his backpack up over his shoulder, eyes on his feet. "i just gotta go." he sets off down the stairs, chucking the cup in a passing trash-can without slowing down.

“sicheng?” jaehyun calls after him, but sicheng doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is not dead yet
> 
> special thnxs to avarie for giving feedback that helped me start writing again


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